She Drove a Cadillac
by WhimsicalDreamerQ
Summary: She's lost. No way out of a life she was born into, running from what she is "destined" to ey were in trouble, like usual. They were going to find the monster, to hunt it down, and hit the road. Simple, right? Until they discover the monster isn't the only thing they have to worry about. Luckily, she was there to save them. Then their lives were forever intertwined.
1. Prologue

**Hi Everyone!**

 **Welcome to _She Drove A Cadillac, A Supernatural Fanfiction_! Thank you for choosing my story! :) **

**I just wanted to first put up this copyright and disclaimer, for formal purposes:**

 **Copyright by Sofia Quiñones**

 **All Rights Reserved**

 **No unauthorized use of this novel, its plot, or characters, their names and so forth. This only applies to characters that I have created. I do not own Supernatural nor did I create Sam and Dean Winchester, Castiel, or any other central character found in the television show Supernatural. All plagiarism will be reported. Permission for any kind of use of this story must be granted by the author (me).**

 **Thank you!**

 **Now that that is out of the way, onward to the story! The Prologue awaits!**

* * *

"No."

It was only one little word, but the impact it had would have taken down a thousand men.

"What is that supposed to mean?" A disgruntled Dean Winchester asked, his tone harsh, annoyed, angry. He was tempted to ask her if that was the only word she knew, but he held his tongue. He had to choose his next words carefully.

"I..." Castiel began, clearing his throat awkwardly, "I'm pretty sure she meant 'no', Dean."

"Yeah I heard her, but what I don't understand is _why_." There was a fire behind his eyes.

"Dean..." Sam said, his voice low.

He avoided eye contact with her, knowing that her leaving was inevitable. He couldn't stop her, neither could Cas. If anyone could keep her from walking away, it would be Dean. But this time, it was different. She was not backing down from her decision. She continued to stand there, arms folded over her chest in defiance, narrowing her eyes at Dean as Castiel and Sam looked on helplessly at their growing tension. Soon, somebody would snap.

"Sam, let me handle this." Dean snapped, his voice a deep growl.

"Dean..."

"Cas damnit, I said let me handle this."

"No, no more," she said, her voice stern and final, "we're done here."

And then she turned her back on them. The family that had taken her in, the team that she would give her life for—and had. Three boys that she loved.

With one swift move, she had turned to walk out of the motel room, car keys jangling in her left hand as her right grasped the doorknob. She paused in the doorway, refusing to look back, or risk seeing the wounds her words had inflicted. She could feel her hands shake with anger, with sorrow, and she tightened her grip on the doorknob. A single tear blurred the vision of her left eye, stinging and alerting her that she was dangerously close to falling apart.

Their gazes bore into her back, hoping, praying that she would turn around, change her mind.

"Jane..." Dean said, his voice almost a whisper. The pain in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

He sounded desperate, a side of Dean that rarely exploited itself. Raw emotion, tender, loving. She knew what he was trying to do. A lump formed in her throat as she fought to hold back the tears. The tone of voice that spoke her name stung. But she wouldn't dare turn around and face them.

Her knuckles ached as she continued to grasp the doorknob. She knew Sam was accustomed to appealing to the emotions of others, sympathizing and calming. But when Dean acted in this way, you knew he was being completely honest with you.

It made her knees weak. He had only spoken her name, and yet, he had spoken volumes, not only asking her to stay, but begging. He was baiting her, trying to get to her to come back to them, get her to listen and consider their plans from their point of view. But she wouldn't have it.

Sam and Dean were aware of her love for them—how she would drop everything to go and help them. She had gone along with their plans in the past, even if she disagreed, warning them that next time she wouldn't let them go through with such acts of stupidity and ill thought. But she could never keep her word. Until now.

Sam shifted his gaze over to his brother, worry and hope that his brother's small plea would change her decision. Dean took a small step forward.

"Jane..." He began again, but his words were cut off by the slamming of the motel room door behind her.

The silence that followed was empty, hollow, only to be broken by the sound of a Cadillac's fierce engine. The brightness of the headlights shone through the windows, moving across the room like a spotlight on some unknown subject, as the car pulled out of the parking lot.

The boys were left, standing there, unable to move, stunned by how the situation had just fallen to ruin before their eyes. She had allowed herself to become sand in their hands, and now they had let her slip through their fingers.


	2. Chapter 1 - The Past

_"If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there."_  
 _~ Lewis Carroll_

Sam and Dean climbed into the Impala and inspected the map Sam laid before them on the dash. They weren't exactly sure where they were going, but they knew it was somewhere in remote Pennsylvania. They had gone there once for Octoberfest, but never to the remote town—or more like the village—of Chancelorville.

"So where exactly is this apple pie town we're going to again?" Dean asked as he scanned the map for a name that looked familiar, waiting to see the town that would spark his memory.

"You're always thinking about pie." Sam replied, chuckling lowly to himself as Dean pulled the Impala out of the Bunker's garage.

"Yeah well, pie seems to be the only pure and not scary thing in this godforsaken world we live in." He glanced at Sam in the passenger seat, expecting a counter, but he didn't supply one, so he reverted back to the map.

"What's this place called again?"

"Chancelorville, Pennsylvania. Super small, inclusive community. And get this," Sam quickly pulled out his laptop and opened it, the screen lighting up with a picture of a man and an article,"the local newspaper said this guy, Sam Adams, he was found mauled and lying naked in the woods."

"Wow that sucks."

"Yeah. And apparently there was a witness, um," Sam fumbled with his pack, searching its contents until he found what he was looking for, "here," he pulled a piece of paper out, "I checked the obits of the town for the past few weeks. Four others reported missing. And all of them were left in the same state."

Dean chuckled, "So our monster plays strip poker with his victims?"

"Seriously?" Sam turned to his brother, sporting his famous bitch face.

"What?" Dean asked with an air of annoyance, obviously offended that his joke didn't carry like he thought it would, "Wouldya stop looking at me that way? You look like you just ate a lemon."

Sam sighed. He honestly did not know what to do with his brother. But at least _someone_ was trying to make the situation feel more light. A hunter's job wasn't like the "dreams of becoming an astronaut or superhero when you're a little kid" kind of job. Or at least not for _normal_ people. Dean had been hunting with him for as long as Sam could remember. They had been through some pretty crazy shit. But they had always found each other in the end.

"So what do you think we're hunting this time?"

"Looks like maybe a nest of Vampires, could be some ghouls, maybe even a Wendigo."

"But what about the clothes being taken? That ain't normal for any monster, unless you're a..." Dean paused, remembering the horrible memories the particular monster had brought back.

"A shape shifter?" Sam asked, his voice low and understanding. A shifter had gotten their faces plastered all over the news, and had almost killed them. He even went as far as to pin Dean for the torture of some women.

"That sonofabitch. He just didn't know when to quit."

"Well we made sure that came back to bite him in the ass eventually."

"Yeah well," Dean glanced over at his brother with a look devoid of sympathy, "bastard had it coming. Why do monsters even do that?"

"Do what?" Sam inquired, leaning back in his seat and folding up their map.

"Just, what they do."

"Dean you know why they do what they do..."

"Yeah I know they do it because it's just the order of things blah blah blah, but why do they keep killing when they know they will be caught? They just keep escalating until they might as well kill themselves."

"It's in their nature I guess."

"Yeah well, their nature is stupid. And they have absolutely no idea..." Dean's voice trailed off, "We gank them, we go home. But what leads up to that is all their own doing."

"Are you saying what they do naturally is almost intentionally leading them to their own demise?"

"Well don't you make it sound poetic..." Dean spoke under his breath, staring straight ahead at the road now, his grip tightening slightly around the wheel, enough for Sam to notice. Silence filled the car, the roar of the Impala's engine keeping the boys' minds from drifting from the task at hand. Dean continued to stare straight ahead, taking a sip of his coke as he cleared his throat.

"So," he began again, "where are we going?"


	3. Chapter 2 - Memory

_"Sinners run away even when no one is chasing them. But those who do what is right are as bold as lions."_  
 _~ Proverbs 28:1_

It was almost 3:00 in the morning, and she could feel the rain begin to fall upon her cheeks, the continuation of a storm that reminded her of her own, brewing inside her chest. She could here the crunch beneath her feet from the gravel of the driveway as she rushed to her car, a maroon Cadillac that she had inherited from her late mother. Her vision became cloudy from her tears as she pulled the car keys from her pocket.

"Jane!" The crunch of gravel becoming louder as the owner of the voice drew closer. The rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, and the air chilled in anticipation. Jane fumbled with her keys, unable to unlock the car door fast enough as the voice finally reached her.

"Jane, I can't let you leave. You know thoroughly well what you are worth to this family. Father..."

"That man in there," Jane said, her voice shaking between suppressed sobs and anger, "is not our father."

"You don't think I've realized that? He never was. But you know what he is, what he does. You _have_ to accept your role. Come back inside and apologize." Her pursuer gripped her wrist, squeezing it until she gave, sinking to the ground as the pressure of his hold began to hurt.

"Please, Josh...don't let him make you..."

"I know my duty to this family," Josh interrupted, his voice firm and condescending, "clearly you need to be reminded of yours."

Without loosening his grip, he began to drag Jane back to the house. She dug the heels of her boots into the gravel to slow him down and gain traction, but it was useless. Joshua was the strongest, the _oldest_ , and the hardest to break. She had seen it with her own eyes time and time again, a devoted son who was willing to do anything for his father. She felt a sharp pain in her legs and looked down, noticing how the gravel drive was tearing apart her jeans. She also caught a glimpse of the knife she hid in her boot, small and silver, glinting off the occasional light as her legs writhed in panic, still trying to stop her body from moving.

With all the strength in her core she could muster, she lifted her leg and released her free hand from being clamped down on her brother's tightening grip. She swiped the knife from her sock and in one swift movement, swiped behind her and cut cleanly across the top meat of Josh's hand.

Small drops of blood flew off his hand as he dropped Jane and applied pressure to his wound, letting an angered guttural growl escape him. He shifted his gaze to Jane, who had recovered from the ground and stood, leaning to one side with her knife still in her hand, poised for any attack he decided to offer.

"You bitch." He growled as the day began to bring forth its light and the drive way lamps began to decimate theirs. The clouds had begun to claim the morning, blocking out any view of a sunrise.

"Just let me go Josh."

"You know I can't do that." He said with warning. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a revolver, pointing it at the ground as he checked the bullets it possessed.

"You can't kill me. Like you said, Father needs me - this family needs me."

"You're right," he said with a low mumble. He looked up at her with a devilish sneer, "but you won't _heal_ fast enough if it's a shot from me. Don't tempt me Janie. Just come inside and we'll get you cleaned up." He said with a tone of triumph. "You know I won't hesitate."

"I know." Jane replied, staring down at her legs, the torn denim with traces of blood from her scrapes, "and know that even if you do bring me inside, even if you do take me back to him _,_ I won't stop until I get away from this cursed place."

"Cursed? How is this place cursed? We are blessings to this goddamn Earth. We are blessed by God."

"God," Jane scoffed weakly, wiping away the tears masked by the gently falling rain, "and where is this God that we so blindly carry out 'duties' in the name of?"

"We have a divine purpose."

"A purpose that I want nothing to do with."

"You have no say in that." His eyes were dark as he raised his gun, pointing it straight for her stomach.

Without thinking, adrenaline raced through her, as it should through anyone held at gunpoint, and raising her hands - as if in defeat - she chucked the knife at Josh, hitting him square in the chest.

He chuckled as he spit up pools of blood, sinking to his knees as he watched her run from him back to her car, whispering, "You missed." He raised his gun and pulled the trigger, hitting Jane in the lower thigh, a cry of pain following upon impact. The striking pain surged through her leg, causing her to limp the rest of the way. Blood seeped from her wound. She grabbed her keys from the gravel and effortlessly unlocked the car door this time, grabbing some gauze and tape from the middle consul and quickly wrapping it up.

"There's no way I'm getting blood all over my car." She said to herself as she carefully situated in the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. The Cadillac roared to life, the radio blasting a guitar solo, startling her. She clicked off the stereo and took one last look at the estate, watching as her brother pulled the knife from his chest and stumbled to the front door, two men in suits answering it and staring back at her. Shit, she needed to leave now.

She pulled out of the driveway as fast as she could, bursting through the gated entry before they could seal it.

She had to run. She couldn't stay.

If she had, it would only be a matter of time before she'd lose herself, becoming completely consumed by her "purpose". She didn't want that life, she never did. It was her mother's job, not hers. But now her mother was dead. No one could protect her.

She turned on the windshield wipers as she pressed the gas, leaving her home, her prison, in the past. The searing pain in her leg beckoned her to stop.

She would never think of them again, and she would make sure they never found her.

The road was desolate, empty, which made her escape all the more faster, efficient. The darkness loomed over the horizon. Wherever she was going, it would be far away from this place. She wanted to see where the light was, where it came from, how it would affect her.

She glanced into her rear view, checking the supplies she had in the back seat that wouldn't fit in the trunk. Salt rounds, ammo, holy water, shot gun; she was ready for the long road ahead.


	4. Chapter 3 - Arrival

_"Things are not always always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of the few perceives what has been carefully hidden... "_  
 _~ Anonymous_

Chancelorville was, for a lack of a better word, odd. But it was not the appearance of the town—for although there were a few dilapidated houses scattered around town, they could easily be disregarded by passersby, who would take one look around and notice the quaint, fairytale-style cottages that were nestled against each other and immediately develop a liking to the town as a whole—it was the _people_ who put Sam and Dean Winchester on edge as the Impala coasted through the town square.

Sam stared out the window of the passenger seat, reluctantly returning the gazes of the citizens on the sidewalk. He had already become accustomed to the stares and sideways glances they received as they would arrive into a town for a job, because who _wouldn't_ notice a shiny black 1967 Chevy Impala in pristine condition? But there was something different about each stare that met their presence. Each was more eerie than the next, giving the impression that there was something being hidden from the public eye, something that made the people of this town dislike tourism.

"Well this isn't creepy." Dean spoke under his breath as he pulled up to the inn on the south side of town, another cottage-like building, with arched roofs and brick entry ways, weathered paint and moss growing around the "rustic" stone steps leading to the front entrance. Sam peered out the windshield at the building, speculating its history. It was set deep in the heart of a dense forest that grew around the town, perhaps it had been an old mansion. It surely was old, and secluded, for it had taken them long into the night to find it.

"Certainly has a special ambience to it," Sam agreed sarcastically, arching one eyebrow and tilting his head to the side, "you sure there isn't anywhere else we can stay?"

"You think if there was, we would be here? Anyway, where's your sense of adventure Sammy? I thought you loved old houses. And," Dean continued, opening the car door and Sam following suit, "doesn't this inn look like it could be...haunted?" he asked, a chuckle bubbling through his speech as he wiggled his eyebrows at his brother, who rolled his eyes in response.

"Yeah, I _was_ interested in that kind of thing, until it turned into every place we drive to. If anything, our job is to rid these magnificent haunted houses of their one...unique factor."

"Well you don't have to be so poetically defensive, Mr. Stanford. What's the matter with you, girl didn't return your calls?" Dean asked with a smirk, but you could tell by the concern in his voice that he suspected something was wrong. He could feel it in fact.

"Haha very funny," Sam said flatly, "nothing's wrong." He answered, turning his head to meet his brother's emerald eyes, shrugging and turning away again, moving to the trunk of the car to grab their bags. Dean watched his brother skeptically, unsure of what to do, whether to persist in his questioning or to let it go. He decided to let it go _for now_ since he knew Sam had no problems sharing his feelings. That was one attribute that kept the bond between them so strong. They had trust in each other, and although that trust had been tested _and_ broken many a time, it always somehow managed to repair itself again.

In short, if there _was_ anything bothering Sam, and Dean was confident that there most certainly was, then he would get him to open up about it eventually.

Dean joined his brother at the tail end of the Impala, searching through the secret compartment where they stored their weapons for anything that would universally come in handy, since they were still a tad unclear on what they were hunting.

They filled the bag with their toys and headed up the mossy steps, both of them taking a turn slipping under the slick surface of the rock staircase, almost falling on their faces. "Sonofabitch!" Dean had yelled in alarm as his boots lost their traction. They eventually made it to the top in one piece, looking down the steps in silent triumph before entering the front hallway to get checked in.

The hall was dark and dingy, with the exception of what little moonlight waning through the overhanging trees outside would allow to stream through the windows. At the end of the hall stood a desk with keys mounted to the wall behind it with pegs. The desk was a dark old wood with a fading glossy top that stuck to your skin and smelled like old sap. The rest of the hall consisted of a small fireplace along the wall that emanated a small glow, lighting up only a fraction of the dark space. Dean rested his elbows on the counter, squinting his eyes at the sunlit—what little sun there was—windows, watching the dust particles float in and out of the beams of light.

Sam placed their bags on the floor and hit the small rusty gold bell sitting on the counter top, its sharp ping breaking the silence. He too rested his elbows on the countertop, but he looked straight ahead, eyeing the keys along the wall, his chin in his hands.

Hasty footsteps soon approached them, and Dean turned around just as a little old woman with silver spectacles hanging off her nose entered through a side stairwell with a bowl of mints in hand. She placed the wrapped candies beside the bell and shifted her gaze between the two towering males.

"How may I help you?" Her voice was rigid with authority, making the boys straighten their posture before answering.

"We would like to rent a room. Two twins." Sam told her.

"Two twins, eh? You two have a fight recently or something?" She eyed them curiously, narrowing her eyes at Sam.

"Oh um, no," he stuttered, utterly annoyed at how he and Dean were constantly being mistaken for a couple, "no, this is my brother. _Brother_." He tapped Dean on the shoulder twice for emphasis.

"Mm hmm, sure you are." She replied, still squinting her eyes as she turned away from them, grabbing a key down from the wall and quickly scratching something down in a log book. She turned back to them, her face now void of emotion.

"Here you are, room 42, up the stairs, halfway down the hall and on the left. You can't miss it." She said monotonously, like she was reading from a script.

"Thanks." Dean replied as she handed him the key to the room. He tried giving her a charming smile, but all Sam saw in it was nervousness and confusion.

As they walked up the stairs, Dean whispered, "What's her deal? Someone stealing her candy earlier?"

Sam chuckled under his breath, letting amusement twitch the sides of his lips upward. They reached the top of the stairs and stood in the hallway lined with rooms. A window at the end of the hall shot a beam of light down the corridor, illuminating the pale gray carpeting. It was uncomfortably quiet, like anticipation was in the air. But for what?

"Alright, room 42." Dean said with rhythm as he twirled the key around his finger. He had been more cheery lately, and Sam had concluded that his brother was just trying to savor the moments that they were alive, and the days where their life functioned more 'normally'—even though 'normal' by their standards was finding a job and driving to a remote location to hunt down a monster. Yep, just a normal day for the Winchesters.

Sam walked in step with his brother as they scoped out their room, finally locating it near the end of the hall. Dean inserted the key into the lock and with a jiggle of the door knob and a shove of his arm, they were in, setting their bags down and claiming their beds. They flopped down on their backs in unison, letting out sighs of relief as they stared up at the ceiling, letting all their thoughts quiet and steady as they flowed through their minds: questions and theories and monsters and facts and faces and blood and death and loss and friendship...

 _This_ was normal for them as well, letting everything come back to them in waves as they settled their minds. Not one feeling of regret or sadness was displaced. It was a daily reminder of their pasts, and it occurred every time they took their mind off their current job. It included nightmares as well, but they barely slept as it was, so they never complained. Their thoughts were heavy weights on their shoulders, with no one to lay them on but each other. But so was life.

"Okay." Dean said, his voice straining as he sat up. He cleared his throat, "let's go eat."

"You're hungry?" Sam said with a bemused smile on his face. His brother's constant appetite never ceased to amaze him.

"Of course I am. You would be too if you just drove across the country to a small, creepy village in Pennsylvania."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I can't even begin to comprehend how hard it is to stay stubborn the entire trip and not let your brother relieve you when you are tired of driving." Sam replied sarcastically, trying his best to hold back a smile.

"Alright Speed Racer, you get to drive the entire time next time." Dean retorted, returning it.

"I guess I am a little hungry." Sam admitted, running a steady hand through his dark locks.

"That's the spirit Sammy," Dean rose to grab his coat, "I bet at least one joint in this place serves pie!"

Pie sounded good to Sam.

He walked over to the door and opened it, stepping into the hallway to wait for his brother. He felt like someone was watching him, which made him uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He discreetly peered down the hallway, only to see a door, a couple rooms down, quickly close with a squeak of its hinges.

Something was up.

Someone _was_ watching.

"Alright let's go get some pie!" Dean said with excitement as he passed the mysterious door in long strides, heading to the stairway. Sam hurried to keep up with him, glancing at the door to the room as they passed. Room 38.

Something was going on, and he would make sure he and Dean got to the bottom of it.

But for now, pie was what they needed.


	5. Chapter 4 - Passing Through

_"We all make choices, but in the end our choices make us."_  
 _~ Ken Levine_

Escaping her past meant putting as many miles between her and that wretched place as she possibly could. The radio boomed AC/DC as she sped down old country backroads, her aviators slipping down the bridge of her nose as she reached into the glove compartment of the Cadillac, pulling out her cellphone. She glanced at the road and carefully lessened the gas as she took her hands off the steering wheel, grabbing the sides of her flip-phone and cracking it in two. She then proceeded to roll down her window and throw the pieces out onto the side of the road.

The act made her feel free, like she was ridding herself of her past, something she knew would never be possible. But the idea would satisfy her for now. Jane was aware of her family's connections and abilities, and she was not going to waste all of her effort in escape only to have her phone traced.

"I. Am. Free." She said as she crossed the state line of rural Massachusetts. Where she was going, she wasn't sure, but she would continue to drive in the same direction until she reached an ocean. _The farther the better_ , she thought. It was only 4:00 in the morning and yet her driving had become something that felt natural, like she had always been on the road. Always been on an adventure.

She watched as the trees lining the road began to change with each passing mile, and the sun had breached the skyline by 6:00. Jane began to wonder when she would come across civilization again, but she guessed that was just part of being on the road. Static took the place of classic rock as she grew further and further away from the Massachusetts area radio towers. She searched for a new station before coming to one that was all about Rock, especially Boston and Journey. Jane sighed, recognizing the guitar solo of "More Than a Feeling" that blasted through the speakers.

Just as the music became completely clear, Jane noticed a couple mail boxes on the side of the road next to a side drive leading into the trees.

"Finally civilization." She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt a smile creep up the sides of her mouth. She licked her lips. She was starving, and houses meant that there must be a town close by, or at least a gas station or market.

Jane had already made it halfway through the back-country of Connecticut, a surprisingly extensive part of the state, by 8:00 am. In the distance, she saw a sign that read "Cafe" in big yellow letters. It was a small, one-story building with a flat roof and an outdoor counter for seating. Only a couple other cars sat in the gravel around it that was a makeshift parking lot. Two men sat on the stools at the counter, drinking what appeared to be lemonade. They wore sleek dark suits and one of them had dark shades on. They hunched over the counter top, talking silently to one another. Jane sat in her car, watching them quietly as she parked. There appeared to be seating inside as well, which was a relief, but no matter what, she would have to pass them, and they didn't seem like the friendly type.

As one of them turned his body more toward his buddy, he revealed the inside lining of his jacket, and a glint of something shiny caught Jane's eye. She squinted her eyes, narrowing in on the object. They widened in realization as the man turned back to the waitress who had brought them their burgers, the large hunting knife once again concealed from sight. _Shit, that can't be good._

Hastily, Jane reached behind her to the back seat, digging around in her bag for her Taurus PT940 with a dark Redwood accent on the grip, a gift from her brother before...everything started to fall apart. She checked the magazine. Fully loaded. Leaning forward and tucking it into the back of her jeans, hiding it with her jacket, she got out of the car and walked in full stride to the front door, planning to go in, order, and leave without attracting too much attention.

She made it to the entrance, feeling two pairs of eyes acknowledge her as she went inside. There was a family of four dressed in vacation-ware—t-shirts, shorts, pony tails, back packs, safari-style hats—which would explain the other car in the lot, a blue minivan with a luggage rack on top. The parents laughed and talked as their children argued, two girls who were trying to pulled each other's pigtails out of their heads. Jane sat close by the door, picking up a menu and flagging over the waitress.

"Hello, Ma'am!" the young waitress beamed, "What can I get you?"

"Can I order something 'to go'?" Jane inquired.

"You sure can." the waitress responded, readying her pen and notepad. Jane gave her the order, a simple burger and fries and a bottle of water.

"Okay," the waitress said, closing her notepad, "that will be done in about twenty minutes." She walked off, disappearing through the kitchen door.

Jane sat in silence, glancing between the whining children and what little she could see of the suits at the counter. She crossed her legs and winced, looking down in surprise. Now that it was light out, she could see the damage to her pants more clearly. There were spots of blood covering her knees, and tears and rips all the way down the thighs. Dirt covered the back side of her legs. She either appeared to be some kind of weird rebellious soul or like she'd just climbed out of a grave.

"I guess it could look worse." Jane mumbled to herself.

"Hiya." A suave, unknown voice spoke from behind her. Jane could feel his presence overtake the atmosphere as he crossed in front of the table, sitting himself in the empty seat across from her. It was one of the men from the counter, the one with the sunglasses. He scooted forward in his chair and removed his glasses, revealing his black eyes. His gaze sent a shiver down Jane's spine as she unconsciously began to reach for her gun.

"Ah, ah, ah," he warned as he gestured a hand toward the vacationing family, a smirk growing on his face, "wouldn't want to cause a ruckus, now would we?"

Aware of her reaction, she released the tension in her hands and placed them in her lap, turning her body to the demon as she glanced harshly at the family.

"What do you want? I have nothing of value to you."

The unwanted guest chuckled to himself, his shoulders shaking as he reached into his jacket and pulled out the giant hunting knife she had seen earlier, shiny and silver with strange markings that could only be enochian symbols.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked, his un-wavering gaze baring the intensity of his question. His eyes flicked from black to a pale icy blue as he waited for her response.

"Do you know who that meat suit belongs to?" Jane scoffed in disgust. Demons taking over the bodies of unfortunate humans was one thing that really ticked her off. She understood that they possessed in order to have a body and blend in, but she was repulsed by the lack of consent the victim was given, and how they had to watch whatever the demon used their body for, like they were strapped to a chair in front of a giant movie screen.

"Do you care?" He challenged, his smirk staying plastered across his face.

"What do you want?" Jane asked, disregarding his remark.

"Do you recognize this knife?" He nodded to the weapon on the table, "You should. After all, I'm sure you carry around one just like it." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the small table, waiting for her to answer. He had a sort of devilish child-like personality. It made him unpredictable and reckless, which kept Jane vigilant as she spoke with it.

"I don't."

"Really? Mind taking a closer look? Perhaps you just don't remember." His tone grew harsher.

"Who are you?" Jane asked in an effort to veer her demonic guest off the path to anger.

"Jack. But my friends and _enemies_ call me 'J'. You know this knife." He stated this time, not even bothering to make it sound like a question. Jane did know the knife, but whatever source told him she had one in her possession was entirely incorrect.

Weapons like the one in front of her were hard to make. You couldn't just carve the symbols into a knife and expect it to work, there was magic involved, deadly magic that was hard to control. The only types of creatures she could think of that could handle crafting something like that were ancient, experienced witches and Angels. But of course, Angels had no use for making their own when they were each supplied with the nifty chrome blades that seemed to be mysteriously hidden in their coat sleeves. Angels were a peculiar sort, and kind of assholes, if she was being honest (she hadn't met an angel that had convinced her otherwise...yet).

"Fine, I'll admit I know what this knife is. But I don't have one. I have never seen one so big. Who'd you steal it from? Bet they could tell you all about it." Jane said, annoyed to the core but terrified of what might arouse his reckless anger.

He gritted his teeth as he forced his smirk to stay, "Well then," his voice had an edge to it, "I guess I should ask someone else. Maybe that family over there."

In an instant, there was a gust of wind that swept through the Cafe. Jane turned toward the family, only to see the demon's partner, who Jane had almost forgotten about, with a knife to the father's throat. Jane stood, her hand reaching once again for her gun.

"Now Jane, be reasonable." Jack said as he pushed away from the table, but without getting up, "you don't really want to cause a scene on your first day of freedom, now do you?" He cocked his head to the side in innocence, but his expression said it all. He was baiting her, and Jane could tell. She could feel the power of his rotten, black soul stewing in that body of his, and it made her sick. His friend was powerful too, but not as much, which is why he was more of the wingman in this situation.

"Let them go." Jane demanded, her voice low and unwavering.

"Do. You. Know. This. Knife." Jack once again persisted, tapping the table with his finger. "We don't have all day Jane. Just tell us if you know this knife, and we'll leave."

"And you will leave the family. Unharmed." Jane said sternly, her muscles tightening with the want to grab her gun.

"Do you know this knife, Jane?" He continued to ask.

"Answer me first." She narrowed her eyes at him. Jack's flicked back to black.

"Scouts' honor." He smiled, raising a hand like he was making a vow.

Jane eyed him suspiciously, slowly sitting back down to his eye level and shifting her glare to the knife.

"Those are enochian symbols, I believe." She looked up in confirmation, but he gave no sign if she was correct or not, so she continued, "the knife is certainly a wonderful...specimen. It seems rather new, which means whoever made this is quite skilled. These things are very valuable and hard to come by, so whoever sent you guys to retrieve it must not care about your lives all that much." Jane hoped her words struck a chord with these assholes. Whatever they were planning, this knife made it seem like a big deal, one to kill for.

"That all?" Jack eyed her with his pitch-black orbs, his tapping on the table ceasing as he leaned forward, anticipating her answer.

Jane inspected the knife again. There were symbols and there was steel. What more were they looking for? She noticed that the knife's handle sat at an angle to the table top, indicating that there was most likely something sticking up on the other side of the grip. She carefully turned it over as Jack watched intently, the silence only broken by the slight squeals of the terrified little girls in the corner booth.

Jane gasped at the sight of what protruded from the other side of the handle, her mouth covered by her palm as she stared down at the object.

There, engraved and sticking up from the handle, was her family's crest. Unique and enticing, sporting Enochian and Latin and Celtic-like script and symbols.

"This is..."

"He said you would know what this was. He also said you would have one, and that this was the only thing that would allow anyone else to...incapacitate you."

"So my brother did this. He hired you to retrieve me."

"Bwahahha," Jack burst out laughing, "no baby, not to retrieve you," his voice lowered to a horrifically serious tone, "to end you."

"End me? But he needs me! At least, that's what he claimed while he tried to drag me back inside."

Then it dawned on her. The men who answered the door earlier when Josh was trying to take her back.

These were the suits that answered the door. _They'd probably been following me the entire time, deciding to cut me off at a place they predicted I would have to stop at,_ she speculated.

"Let's just say, we've found an ultimatum. Unless you _are_ willing to come back with us...no one else has to be harmed."

Had Josh really found someone else? That had to be a lie. There was no way he had found someone who could fit the qualifications they needed, let alone _want_ to do the things my family wanted. It was something you were born into. Unless...

"He's found someone else?"

"That's right baby." Jack confirmed, licking his lips as he looked her over once.

Jane narrowed her eyes in disgust, shifting her gaze to his partner, still holding the poor family hostage. She glared at him, "Let them go, I've given you what you want. They have nothing to do with this."

"Oh no?" Jack asked, standing up as he picked the knife off the table, "I think they have _everything_ to do with this. They got caught in the crossfire while you were resisting us, and since they saw everything, _you_ had to kill them so no one could give away your location. While we tried to restrain you, you drew your weapon and fired, killing at least one of us, perhaps both, and then, when your brother sends more of our kind to hunt you down just as you hunt us down, they will know that you have become more of a ruthless monster than they thought possible."

Jane shook her head, her brows furrowing in anger, "NO! That's not going to happen. _You're_ the monsters here, and the fact that my brother would seek help from trash like you is beyond me. It's not you that I have a problem with. If he is too cowardly to face his own sister, then I'm done here." Jane turned to leave, knowing that without her affected, the captive family was no longer leverage. But then they did something she did not expect.

"Oh Jane!" The other demon—a red haired man with pale skin and a defined jaw—called, his eyes changed to soot black.

Jane turned, and the minute she laid eyes on him, he dragged the knife across the father's throat, painfully slow, leaving a deep cut and causing the man's voice to crack and fade like a silenced scream. Blood pooled from the wound as the demon released him, letting his limp body drop to the floor. The other demon, Jack, walked over, his knife twirling in his hand, and kicked through the blood like a child through a puddle on a rainy day.

Jane gasped in shock, this time letting her hand take out her gun, aiming at Jack's head. Her family had trained all of its members how to protect themselves, and she was by far the best shot.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Jack sang, his knife waving in front of his face.

"Please, just let my children go! I'll do anything!" The mother suddenly cried out, blood splattered on her shirt from standing too close to her husband.

"Anything?" The other demon said, tilting his head at her and licking his lips, eyeing her hungrily. Jane stood resolute, horrified by what he could mean.

"Calm down Brody, focus on the task at hand, right now." Jack said, not breaking his watch on Jane. Suddenly, Jack opened his mouth, and his demon soul bellowed out in a large, dark smoke that encircled the woman and forcefully entered her, her eyes immediately replaced with black orbs.

"Whatcha gonna do now, Janie dear?" Jack asked with his new feminine voice. His other vessel lay limp on the floor, it's eyes wide open, cloudy. "Oh him?" Jack gestured to the limp body, "I killed him a long time ago." He said nonchalantly, though Jane could see a maniacal gleam in his eye.

"Get out of her, NOW!" Jane demanded, stepping forward. Jack grabbed his knife out of the hands of the dead and brought it to his own throat, the throat of the mother.

"No mommy!" One of the little girls screamed as she and her sister crammed themselves into the corner of the booth, unable to escape the horror before them.

"Or what?" Jack laughed, "you gonna shoot me? You won't use that gun unless you have to, let's all be honest here." He gestured to the empty room like it was an audience, "Have you even shot anything? I mean you have all that hunting equipment in your car, but do you actually know how to use it? _And_ didn't anyone tell you," he leaned forward, the knife still at his throat, " _you can't kill a demon with a measly gun._ "

Jane smirked, stepping closer, "You don't know anything about me."

"Oh yeah? I think I have a pretty good idea." He challenged.

Without removing her gaze from him, she raised her arm and turned it to Brody, swiftly shooting him in the head, making him drop before he could even comprehend how to escape his body. He dropped with a hiss from the bullet now lodged in his brain, light flickering like lightning in his skull.

When it ceased, Jane turned her attention back to Jack, pointing her gun at him once more as she stepped closer, her aim now could undeniably hit her target.

"Now, unless you want to join your friend in whatever Purgatory demons are sentenced to, I suggest you leave the woman now." Her voice was firm. Jack's smirk disappeared, replaced with a look of hate.

"You think you can win that easily? I can still make what I said would happen come true. Don't underestimate me! I am not afraid to do what I have to!" He yelled, his voice turning into a growl. He raised the knife, holding it firmly to the woman's neck. He paused, "He's going to find you, and when he does, you will pay for your sins." And with that, he slit her throat, a crash like thunder booming as the magic of the knife echoed through his body, killing him and her. She fell on top of her husband, the knife splashing into the pool of red. Jane could feel the tears coming, regret beginning to pile itself up in her throat. She wanted to scream, but then the waitress came back out of the kitchen with Jane's bag of food, setting it on the table and looking around the now silent room, her eyes widening in horror at the scene. She fainted as Jane walked over, crumpling to the floor with a thud.

Jane sighed, wiping away the tears from her eyes and pulling out some money, leaving it on the counter in place of the food. As she walked out, she looked over to the two little girls who had just lost their parents, snot and tears pouring out and dirtying their faces. They could barely look at her by how contorted their crying faces were. Their screams were ear-piercing as Jane walked over to them. They made her heart break, her head hurt. She grabbed the knives from the demons' dead grasps, and stared at them for a second, beckoning them out of the booth with her gaze. Hesitantly, one followed, and then the other, their faces still wet with anguish.

"Can you do something for me?" Jane asked in a soft voice, letting pity replace her anxiety as she led them over to the kitchen. They both nodded in response. She crouched down to their eye level next to the waitress on the floor. "I need you to look after this lady, okay? She just fainted, she's all right. When she wakes up, tell her you need to stay with her, can you do that?" Jane hated to impose on the poor woman, but she had no choice. She couldn't take them with her, she couldn't take care of them. They nodded once more. "Good."

As she stood, Jane heard a rustling in the kitchen. She drew her gun as a bearded man in a chef's apron splattered with grease came out, his eyes widening as they landed on the crumpled waitress on the floor. "What have you done to my wife?" He yelled, running over to her limp figure.

"She's fine, she only fainted." Jane replied, putting her gun away.

"Who are you?" He questioned as he took a glimpse at the knives in Jane's possession. He gestured to the girls, "Who are they? What's going on!" He demanded.

"I can't explain everything but," Jane sighed, "two very bad men came and killed these girls' parents. I'm a former agent," Jane said, taking out her fake FBI badge from her pocket, "and I had no choice but to engage. Please listen to what I am about to tell you. You and your wife must take care of these girls. I cannot. Call the police or whatever, but don't tell them who I was. I...just don't, okay?" Jane gave him a hard stare, making sure her instructions were ingrained in his mind.

"O-O-Okay." He said shakily.

With that, Jane stood, walking over to the dead bodies as she searched the two demons' vessels for anything, wallet, ID, more weapons... She found wads of cash on both, and a smaller knife concealed on Jack's ankle. She hurriedly stashed her findings in her jacket and searched the parents for anything to ID them. She found a wallet on the man, and looked inside. His name was George Cross, and he had a picture of his family in his wallet next to his Driver's license. She took out the picture and turned it over. On it was written "Lacey, Mary, and Kit - 2009 Yosemite". She approached the girls and gave one of them the picture.

"Keep this safe." She told them as she threw the wallet to the chef. "Here, there's an ID of the girls' father inside. Use it to find their family after you call the police." He nodded silently.

With bag and knives in hand, Jane finally walked out of the cafe, watching for security cameras as she left, but there were none. Luckily the cafe was old enough and remote enough to not have any installed. She trudged out the door and to her car, fumbling with her keys as she opened the door to the passenger seat, placing her food down. She got into the driver's seat on the other side and started the car, the radio immediately turning on and playing "Heat of the Moment" by Asia. Jane's eyes began to water again as she hit the stereo button, leaving her to sit in silence for a moment. She breathed deeply, trying to control her emotions.

She started the car, checking the clock. It was 9:15. She now needed to distance herself from _this place_.

"And the adventure continues." Jane said with a sigh, her face now devoid of emotion as she recounted the events in her mind. She pulled out of the gravel lot and back onto the road, leaving the cafe behind her in a billow of dust.

 _It just happened, it's not your fault. It's theirs._ She thought in an attempt to consul herself. But no matter how many times she said it in her mind, she couldn't convince herself it was true.

Because what happened back there ultimately _was_ her fault. And she had done exactly what the demons and her brother had wanted her to. She wasn't free, she was still putty in their hands.

And no amount of miles between them could change that.


	6. Chapter 5 - Suspicion

_"Sometimes the slightest things change the directions of our lives, the merest breath of a circumstance, a random moment that connects like a meteorite striking the earth."_  
 _~Bryce Courtenay_

"Why don't you like apple pie?" Dean questioned in shock.

"Because I just don't." Sam said simply, shrugging his shoulders as they walked through the musty entrance hall of the inn.

"But, you're always that guy who glorifies fruit and _apples_ are fruit. Not to mention one of the most American desserts..." Dean smirked. He thought he had outsmarted his brother.

"But I thought you don't like apples." Sam challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"I..." Dean began, stopping midway up the stairs, tilting his head in consideration. He was carrying what was left of the freshly-made apple pie they had bought at the local bakery, planning to save it for breakfast. "Well, that still doesn't answer my question as to why you're hating on apple pie!" Dean retorted.

"I never said I hated apple pie!" Sam lashed back in annoyance, a chuckle escaping him as he laid eyes on his older brother's face, his mouth twisting into a pout. Dean mumbled something that Sam guessed was probably a profanity directed at him. They continued heading up the stairs and shuffled down the hall.

"So what do you say we start first thing tomorrow? I grabbed a copy of the local newspaper and there's a whole section on the case."

"Sounds good to me." Sam agreed. His brow furrowed as he eyed one of the doors they passed. Room 38. The room with the mysterious stalker from earlier. At least, the person's demeanor was something to question.

He was wary of the possibility that whoever was in there was connected to the case somehow, since they were eyeing two hunters in the hallway earlier. But they still had yet to discover what they were up against, so he pushed his worries to the back of his mind, saving his musings for a later date.

"...so there's a great chance that it's another nest of blood-sucking bastards." Dean said, completely unaware of his brother lost in thought. Sam stared at Dean for a minute, trying to remember what they had been talking about before.

Oh right, the case article in the newspaper.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam responded simply, a faraway look in his eyes.

Dean looked at him curiously, wondering why Sam's feet were planted to the floor in front of a random room.

"Everything alright Sammy?" He asked hesitantly.

"Uh, yeah. Everything's fine" Sam replied pointedly, hurrying down the hall and into their room.

Sam didn't want to try and raise any alarm, but Dean was almost too perceptive when it came to his brother. It was like they were connected. That, and the fact that when it came to lying to his brother, he wasn't the best. It would always blow up in their faces. It had happened too many times to not be true.

Dean closed the door behind him and set the pie on the table, eyeing Sam suspiciously.

"What's up?" He asked seriously, his bright emerald green eyes bore a hole in Sam's back as he waited for a response.

Sam turned to him, unable to meet his brother's gaze as he took out his gun and set it on the table, sitting in one of the chairs. He sat hunched over, his elbows resting on his thighs as he clasped his hands together. He sighed and finally looked up at Dean.

"I don't think it's something, but...it might be."

"What might be?" Dean probed as he sat on his bed and leveled himself, leaning in so that he could clearly hear Sam's explanation.

"I just," Sam began, "I have a weird feeling about this case."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, giving Sam his full attention.

"Why is that?"

Sam sighed again. If he was wrong about this, he was worried by what they might cause. Maybe some random paranoid citizen was just watching out for their safety. Maybe whoever it was wanted to leave but didn't want to be seen. Maybe maybe maybe. It was all speculation, and that in itself was frustrating.

"I just..." Sam began, "there's this room down the hall. 38. When we went out earlier, I thought I saw someone...watching us." Sam shivered at the thought. Monsters he could deal with—and probably go as far as to say he understood them and their behavior—but people were a mystery. Always had been.

"Watching us how?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam thought back, picturing in his head what he'd seen. His hair hid his face as he thought, and he tucked some behind his ear as he looked at his brother once more, "They were...watching in the dark. The lights were off, the door was open slightly...it was just...suspicious."

Dean nodded and immediately stood up, taking out his gun and checking the bullets, then returning it back to his waistband. He strode over to the door.

"Where are you going?" Sam wondered.

"Going to go pay that coward a visit." Dean replied matter-of-factly.

"But we're not even sure if it really is something." Sam argued, trying to persuade his brother from leaving and stirring up trouble.

"Well if that's the case then going over for a chat won't hurt anybody." Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sam groaned. He couldn't just let his brother go and potentially make a fool of himself. At least not without him present...

"Ugh, fine. Fine! Go ahead, just wait for me." Sam said defeatedly. He picked up his gun and tucked it into his waistband, following his brother out of the room. They walked quickly and quietly to the door. Dean stood in front of it and knocked.

"Room service!" He called out. They listened for any signs of life inside, but there was nothing. He knocked on the door again, "Hello?"

Still no answer. Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks.

"You got a lock pick?" Dean asked as he kneeled down to the door knob. Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled one out, handing it to his brother as he glanced down the hall, vigilantly watching, making sure they wouldn't get caught.

Dean had the door open in a mere two minutes. "You're getting slower." Sam teased.

"Yeah yeah." Dean waved him off as he took out his gun, raising it as he entered the room. Sam did the same, following in after. The room was dark, with the thick navy curtains drawn. Dean slid his hand along the wall until he found a light switch. He flicked it on and lowered his gun, observing the room.

Sam made his way to the bathroom near the door and opened it slowly, reaching along the wall and turning on the light. His eyes widened as he entered the small space.

"Uh Dean? You might want to take a look at this."

Dean squeezed into the tiny room, his eyes landing on the sink. The rim was dotted with bloody finger prints and the basin was splattered with red, the white ceramic stained with a glistening shade of pink.

"Blood?" Sam asked, or more like stated for confirmation.

"What else would it be? Tomato juice?"

"That explains why whoever this was acted so strange before."

"Yeah well," Dean began as he stepped out of the room, "the question is whose blood is it."

The boys searched through the drawers of the bedside table and dresser, finding nothing that would answer their question. In fact, they barely found anything. Nothing but some clothes and an empty back pack.

"There's nothing here Dean." Sam said, putting his gun away. Dean nodded, giving the room one last look before turning and joining his brother at the door. He put away his gun as they entered the hall. Immediately they heard a gasp.

Dean's muscled tightened, Sam's eyes widened, and the woman in the hallway dropped her bag.

The boys knew they'd been caught, but by who?

"What...my room!" The girl stuttered in surprise, "What the hell do you think you're...!" Her voice trailed off in anger.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. They both looked her over. She was taller than the average woman, long legs hidden by ripped jeans with red splotches, soft pale skin and shiny dark auburn hair that brushed her shoulders. She had naturally full lips, and long lashes that fanned out from her now widened dark hazel eyes, a hint of gold in them glinting around the pupil. They began to fill with a realization the Winchesters didn't understand, and in one quick move, she ran at them, catching them off guard. She pulled out a knife and swung forward at Sam, causing him to step back before the blade could swipe across his throat.

Dean reached for his gun, cocking it and gaining her attention. She looked at him furiously, an air of desperation hiding behind the fire. Sam took the opportunity to grab her small frame from behind, squeezing her wrist until the knife dropped to the floor. She squirmed and grunted violently, trying to wriggle out of the taller Winchester's strong embrace.

She jumped up, head butting him in the chin, causing Sam to curse. She jumped once more, this time hitting him in the nose. He stepped back and gripped the bridge of his nose, dipping his head back as he tried to stop the bleeding.

"Sam!" Dean shouted. The girl rushed towards him and elbowed him in the stomach, stepping on his foot and punching him, her fist connecting with his jaw.

"Sonofabitch!" Dean yelled as he bent over, holding his stomach. _Damn_ , he thought, _she's stronger than she looks_.

She ran back down the hall towards the bag she had dropped, grabbing it and bounding back down the stairs.

"Damnit!" Dean yelled as he chased after her. But by the time he'd reached the door, she was gone, the echo of an engine and a cloud of dust left in the parking lot. He ran down the mossy steps and out to the driveway, catching a glimpse of a dark red Cadillac speeding away down the road.


	7. Chapter 6 - Rest

_"I guess it's going to have to hurt, I guess I'm going to have to cry, And let go of some things I've loved to get to the other side."_  
~ _Carrie Underwood_

She drove for what felt like days. It was amazing how well that burger she had bought had tied her over. And it was delicious. That cafe's food was truly something to glorify.

That cafe. The family, the girls...the demons...

Jane shook her head. There was no point in dwelling on the past, letting it slowly eat her from the inside out. That's not what she needed right now. She had to keep a level head. So she pushed all the hurt and regret deep down, somewhere locked away in her mind. A place where it wouldn't bother her.

She concentrated on the road and drove a few hours more, finally passing a sign that sounded promising: _Chancellorville - 8 miles_

"Chancellorville it is." Jane decided. She couldn't wait to finally sleep.

The day continued on without any incident, endless blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds that resembled cotton balls.

 _Cotton balls. Should probably grab some of those. And disinfectant,_ she figured, wincing at the thought of the gunshot wound in her leg. It had stopped bleeding, but only because of the rags she had hastily wrapped around it as a temporary bandage. It was almost healed, luckily. A gun could only do so much damage to her. All she had to do now was dig out that damn bullet.

A few hours more on the road and the sun had ceased its presence in the sky, leaving the faintly haunting aura of the moon and a beautiful rose and gold sunset illuminating the sky. It looked like fire, and it reminded Jane of her mother. She was beautiful and fiery, a spark of intelligence and humor ever present in her eyes. But along with intelligence and humor was wisdom, the kind of wisdom that her family needed, and now no longer had.

A flash of white and green in her headlights caught Jane's attention as she passed a road sign that read: _Welcome to good ol' Chancellorville, PA._

Finally.

She slowed her Cadillac and crawled through the quiet little town, eyeing the old decrepit gazebo at the center of town. A couple of kids were hanging out on its steps, picking off the chipping paint. The lights of restaurants glowed through their high windows. A couple strolled along the sidewalk, laughing and smiling at each other.

The town was quaint, quiet, and inconspicuous, the perfect place to lay low for a couple of days.

Jane spotted a parking spot along the side of the street. She got out and hid her weapons bag under her jacket, stepping out into the open air, a slight breeze giving her relief from the warm evening.

She sighed deeply, taking in as much fresh air as she could. Jane smiled, feeling content for the first time in a very, very long while. She began walking down the sidewalk, her injury causing her stride to falter a bit, but nothing too hard to hide.

There was a bakery at the end of the sidewalk. It's arch-shaped windows softening the bright light that emanated through the artificially frosted glass. A customer walked out the front door, a small bell jingling as they exited. Jane could detect the scents of freshly-baked croissants and sugar cane.

There was no way she would pass this up. Jane dug her cold hands into her jean pockets and then her jacket, coming up with ten dollars in change. A smile grew on her lips as she started walking towards the entrance, her stomach now beginning to cry out in impatience.

The bell over the door jingled as she passed through, entering the bakery and allowing the hospitable warmth to surround her. The smells and quiet of the little shop were heavenly. Jane walked up to the counter, leaning on the glass like a small child would and observed all the deliciously appealing sweets. A miniature apple pie caught her eye, still steaming from the oven. It was about the size of a baseball, with a small dough apple baked on top to indicate its flavor.

"Hi there." The cashier said, leaning over the register and observing the strange actions of the customer before him.

Jane flinched, startled from the mouth-watering distraction, only to come face-to-face with yet another.

"Oh, um...hey." She hadn't flirted in a while, and it wasn't exactly something she had to do since she was practically imprisoned on the estate since her family found out she had developed her power. She may have gone out once or twice, but there was never a time to stop...working.

"Can I get you anything?" The handsome cashier asked her, his brown eyes shining in the soft light of the bakery. His hair shifted in front of his face as he leaned over to observe her, amusement tugging the corners of his lips. Jane stood upright, nodding and walking over to the counter to stand in front of him. He stood up, taking his position in front of the register and letting his smile light up his face. Jane could feel her heart beat a bit faster in her chest as she noticed the boy's light band of freckles over the bridge of his nose.

 _Sweet Jesus._

"I'd like to buy that small Apple pie there." Jane said, tapping the case with her finger.

"Alright, that will be," he sang as he typed something on the register keyboard, " $8.50."

"Here." Jane responded, handing him the numerous coins and bills that made up her ten dollars. She blushed at her disorganization.

"Are you just passing through? I don't think I've seen you around before." He looked back up from the cash tray and handed Jane her change.

"Yeah, I'm just...passing through." She replied, smiling more comfortably now. She watched as he bent down to unlock the pastry case and pull out the pie, setting it in a box and writing something on the lid. Then placing the box in a paper bag, he handed it to her. She licked her lips in response. She hadn't realized how hungry she was.

"I'm Max, by the way." He said, his smile bearing his white teeth as he held out his hand.

"Jane." She replied, taking it. They stood like that for a while, just watching each other, afraid to break apart in the moment.

Jane was the first to break the silence, "...Well I should be going," she said hesitantly, clearing her throat, "thank you..." She let go of his hand and walked to the door, opening it and making the bell jingle again. Before she left, she whispered just loud enough, "Max." He caught a glimpse of her smile as he watched her go.

Unlocking the Cadillac, Jane couldn't understand what had just happened, or what it meant. She thought back, remembering the entire scene. She slid into the front seat, placing the pie in the passenger side and fastening her seat belt.

 _He wrote something on the box..._ She remembered _,_ biting her lip in curiosity as she opened the bag and inspected the box. In black sharpie, he had written a number, his name, and a " _please come again soon :)_ "

She smiled at the gesture, a tear stinging her vision. A tear of happiness, happiness that maybe she had found proof there was still good in the world.

She picked up her phone and searched for some place to stay. There was only one inn in the area, and it was perfect for her price range.

* * *

The night was thick and dark as she made her way slowly down the entry driveway. Her headlights only pierced the black enough for her to see directly in front of her. She could barely make out the large oaks that lined the road. Eventually though, she pulled into the front lot of the old inn. Its features weren't very pronounced in the dark, besides the silhouettes of the arching roofs against the starry sky.

After turning off the ignition, she stepped out cautiously, pulling her flashlight from the bag in the back seat and resting a hand on her gun for reassurance. There was a flight of mossy steps that led to the front hall, their slippery surfaces almost causing Jane to fall on her face. Luckily, she regained her balance.

The front hall was dismal and dimly lit, but she could still see everything in the space. A fireplace, a desk, a manager with rows of keys behind him

"Hello." A grim voice said in acknowledgment. Jane strode up to the desk and payed for a room.

"Room 38. Up the stairs and down the hall." He said mechanically.

"Thank you." Jane responded politely. She trudged up the stairs, her back pack jostling with each step. She found her room near the entrance to the hall, and immediately made her way to the bed. Slinging her back pack on the floor, Jane flung herself on the mattress, sighing as she sunk into the soft sheets. She settled in the covers, letting herself drift from consciousness.

Her bliss was immediately interrupted by her rumbling stomach. Her eyes popped open, and she groaned as she slowly got up and walked over to the door. As she reached for the knob, she heard voices outside. She placed her ear to the door and listened, hearing a door open down the hall and two deep voices. She slowly cracked open the door, sitting in the dark as she focused on their words, observing them.

"...you get to drive the entire time next time." The first voice, a tall, ruggedly handsome man with dark blond hair and green eyes said to his partner.

"I guess I am a little hungry." The other responded, a taller man (who also was very handsome, in Jane's opinion) with long dark auburn hair.

"Thats the spirit Sammy," the first man said, "I bet at least one joint in this place serves pie!"

 _Sammy?_ Jane thought. She watched as the the man with the green eyes locked their room door and tugged on his jacket. As he did so, she caught a glimpse of some metallic object concealed in his pocket.

 _Shit, oh god please no. Have they really found me already?_

"Crap." She cursed under her breath. At the same moment, her eyes locked with the taller one, her breath hitching. She immediately closed the door, the suddenness of the action causing the door to creak loudly. The sound was painful to her ears.

She couldn't leave the room to get her delicious pie now. She had to wait until they were gone. And what if she was wrong? Maybe they really were just tourists. But that thing under the man's jacket...

Jane immediately saw flashes of the scene at the cafe. Her chest hurt and she felt dizzy. She needed a distraction. Emptying her backpack and putting everything away seemed to do the trick. She looked down at her legs, the blood stains had become a sort of pattern of blotches around her mid thighs and knees.

There was one more thing she had to do. Pulling the knife she had strapped to her ankle, she made her way to the bathroom.

* * *

*Clink*

Jane dropped the dislodged bullet into a plastic glass and laid down on her bed once again. The pain had ceased to exist and she enjoyed being able to walk without a care again. Now the wound could close up.

Her stomach rumbled with need. She sat up and clutched it, remembering that her mini pie was _still_ in her car.

Cautiously, she stepped into the hallway with her flashlight in hand and made her way downstairs. It was 11:45 pm.

The parking lot was even darker than before, but at least her flashlight was military grade. The pie was right where she left it. Her stomach began voicing its complaints as she grabbed the bag.

 _Yeah yeah I know I'm hungry! Now shut up, s_ he thought irritatedly to herself.

She locked the Cadillac up again, and walked back to the inn, a black 1967 Chevy Impala catching her eye as she went. Jane smiled at it fondly, musing about its history. The car was in pristine condition, and she was polished, her hood clearly reflecting the shine of her flashlight.

Slowly, Jane made her way up the mossy stairs and back into the lobby, turning to the stairwell and reaching the top with ease. She really couldn't wait to eat her pie.

As she rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, she stopped, her eyes widening in surprise and shock. She was unable to suppress a gasp as the two men from earlier strode out of her room, tucking their guns in their waistbands.

"What...my room?!"

When they heard her, they stopped abruptly, and time seemed to slow as all three hunters stood in the hallway, staring at each other startled.

 _I knew there was something off about them. How many people must you send you coward,_ Jane thought, silently cursing her brother. Instantly, all the sadness and guilt she had been suppressing bubbled up inside her, morphing into an adrenaline-pumping rage.

And then she took out her knife and charged.


	8. Chapter 7 - Indecision (Part 1)

_"If someone wants to be in your life they will find you. If they don't they will find an excuse."_  
 _\- Shannon L. Alder_

 **Part 1**

 **The Present**

The slam of the door sent chilling vibrations through the entire room, leaving the Winchesters silent and speechless.

Sam watched as his brother just stared at the door, silently willing it to open again and reveal her standing there, apologizing for her words and embracing them, but it never happened, and it was at that moment that Sam snapped out of his surprise.

"Dean..." Sam began, breaking the silence and stepping toward his brother. Dean hung his head, fixing his eyes on the doorknob she had once grasped, noticing the dark spots on the carpet where her hidden tears had fallen.

"Dean, are we just going to let her leave like this?" Sam questioned cautiously, not wanting to strike the wrong chord in his brother. He knew that Dean had a hidden empathy that could only be brought out by the people he cared about, which also evidently made him more vulnerable. He could hide it, but not from Sam, or Castiel.

Cas's brow furrowed as he waited for Dean's response. He would've easily flown away and found her himself, but the Winchesters had convinced him to carve the anti-demon/angel tracking symbols into her ribs, so that thought was automatically a bust. He felt useless, knowing that the only thing he could do in the moment was watch Dean and feel his sadness destroy him inside.

"Dean," Castiel spoke up, deciding that enough was enough. He carefully placed a hand on his friend's softly shaking shoulder. He glanced down at Dean's hands, now balled into fists, "we need her. I estimate that if we leave now, we will be able to catch up to her before she disappears forever. I care about her just as deeply as you and Sam do, and I hate to see her leave, but I will not stand here and pray for her to return. We all know better than that."

"What's our next move Dean?" Sam chimed in, realizing that every minute that ticked by was another mile between her and them. Dean raised his head and turned toward them, lightly grabbing Cas's wrist and picking his hand off his shoulder. He met the azure-eyed angel's gaze with his emerald one. Cas dropped his arm and stepped back, awaiting Dean's response along with Sam.

"We...we can't just bring her back. If she ever wants us to see her again, then she'll come to us. This has happened before," Dean looked from Cas to Sam, "we didn't have a chance in hell of finding her. It was by luck that she decided to appear and help us in the first place. We can't _bring_ her back, she has to _come_ back." His tone was resolute.

Sam chuckled softly to himself, "She's so stubborn."

Castiel's lips twitched upward, a suggestion of a smile at the memory of her strong will, "That she is. I believe in her."

Sam glanced back to Dean, watching as a glint of hope flashed in his eyes, "So what do we do now?"

"Now?" Dean repeated, a veil of seriousness hardening his features, "Now we do what we do best until she comes to her senses." He said, striding over to the bed side table and grabbing his keys.

"We hunt."


	9. Chapter 7 - Indecision (Part 2)

_"They're gone. I let them chase me. I led them like a sunbeam and vanished like a shadow."_  
 _~ Erin Bow, Plain Kate_

 **Part 2**

 **The Past**

Dean stood in the damp parking lot, watching as the mysterious girl (who had just single-handedly kicked their asses) sped away, her bright tail lights fading away into the foggy night. The echo of the engine drifted off into the air as she drove further and further. He bent over, his hands on his thighs, still trying to recover from her elbow to his stomach.

"Damn...it" He said between breaths. After a few seconds, he straightened, peering down the dark drive once more, narrowing his vision as he tried to remember the car. It was red, that much he was sure of, and there was no mistaking the engine of a Cadillac.

He jogged back up the steps and into the front hall, the desk manager lifting an eyebrow at the elder Winchester's disheveled state.

"Everything alright Sir?" the man asked carefully, articulating every word like Dean was a child. To be honest, Dean thought it was creepy.

"Uh, yeah. Everything's peachy." He replied, forcing the 'p' between his lips to release the tension in his voice.

"Are you sure? Because she seemed to be in a...hurry."

"Yeah well, when you see her next, send her up to me and my brother's room. We, uh, need to talk to her." He took a minute and then his eyes widened, "on second thought, just tell us when she gets back."

The manager narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but decided that it was probably best not to interrogate his guest further. It had not become his business...yet.

"As you wish." He replied formally as Dean ran up the stairs to his brother, who had gone back into the woman's bathroom in an attempt to stop his nosebleed.

"Sam!" Dean whispered harshly as he looked down the hall, slipping into the room. Sam turned away from the bathroom mirror and opened the door, revealing his swollen nose now stuffed with tissues.

"I'm right here." He said. His nose gave his normally full, deep tone a muted quality, reminding Dean of a kazoo.

"What...what are you doing in here?" Dean asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

"You took the room key with you." Sam replied, his eyes narrowing unamused. "This was the only place I could go."

"...mm hmm..." Dean tried to hold back his amusement as best he could, but it just wasn't good enough. His laughter tumbled out like a damn collapsing and releasing a reservoir. He backed up against the wall opposite the bathroom and held his stomach, only to groan from the pain that followed. His laughter subsided as he remained bent over, clutching his stomach, "I think she might have bruised one of my ribs." He said roughly.

"Yeah, she beat us up pretty bad. We didn't even see it coming." Sam added, remembering the spark of unknown realization in her eyes that had set her anger aflame.

"You can say that again. What was that about anyway? All we did was search her room." Dean replied, his tone of sincerity causing Sam to roll his eyes.

"Yes, of course she wouldn't be mad at us for breaking into her room." Sam retorted sarcastically.

Dean looked down at the floor, his eyes fixed to nothing in particular. His hands bunched up his shirt around his injured stomach. "You think she's like us?" His tone was serious.

"If she is, then there _really_ must be something going on in this town." Sam concurred, pulling the wadded tissues from his nostrils and throwing them in the wastebasket.

"Something she doesn't want us to find out about?" Dean speculated, standing up as the pain that had winded him subsided.

"Maybe. We won't know until we ask." Sam replied with a sigh, knowing all too well that 'asking' her about her intentions in Chancellorville could easily result in another knife fight.

"Ha," Dean scoffed, a discerning smirk appearing on his lips, "if we ever get the chance to."

* * *

"Crap how did they find me so quickly!" Jane shouted, slamming her palms on the steering wheel. She had traveled halfway through town and driven down a back road, finding herself in a quiet little neighborhood, the street lamps glowing in the midnight.

"Why can't I escape? Why can't they just leave me alone?" She asked the Cadillac, resting her forehead on the steering wheel with a despairing sigh.

Jane scoffed at her desperation, a smile replacing her anguish. She started to chuckle darkly, finding her weakness humorous, "I guess escaping my past will be harder than I thought. Because, so far, it hasn't exactly been a walk in the park."

She ran her hands through her hair and turned the key in the ignition, turning on the radio and searching the stations. Satisfied with the greatest hits of Journey, Jane drove back into town. Maybe she could go back to that bakery to pass the time. A small smile graced her lips at the thought.

As she entered the town square once again, she took in how much her surroundings had changed. Everything was darker, more secretive. The lights in most of the shops were out, and only every other street lamp was lit, leaving dark shadows cast in between them. It was all more eery now.

Now that her senses were on alert due to the possible demons on her tail, everything appeared as a red flag.

 _Where can I go now? Those 'tools' are probably sitting in my room waiting for me to come back...the bastards,_ Jane thought with disgust.

But then she paused, taking a minute to think over what had happened during her scuffle with her brother's "henchmen" (or whatever they called themselves nowadays). There was something that was off about them. They never flicked on their black eyes for one, a flashy gesture demons were known to do, and they were not dressed in the usual formal attire of a business man—disguised as a pencil-pusher to avoid suspicion. They wore flannel plaid shirts and jeans with army-grade boots. And they were handsome, not unassuming and discretely normal.

 _There was another thing too. They didn't fight back like the two demons at the Café. They seemed almost..._ Jane's eyes widened as she finally understood. She hit the gas, hoping to get to the inn before they left for any reason. Hopefully they weren't out looking for her or they would be chasing each other for the rest of the night.

* * *

"Dean, it's been over an hour, how do we know if she's even coming back?" Sam questioned impatiently as he glanced at the clock on their bedside table.

They were waiting for a stranger who may or may not be someone involved with the killing in town, someone who had proven that she could beat them without a problem. Sam sat on the edge of his bed as he glared at Dean with obvious frustration.

"She will." Was all Dean replied, casually shining his gun with a rag as he sat in the chair, his feet propped up on the room desk.

"Oh yeah? And how do you figure that?" Sam asked unconvinced.

"She will. She left her belongings in her room. If she is a hunter, she'll come back to cover her tracks. Hell, she left her bathroom sink caked in blood. She'll come back, and even if she's not a hunter..." His voice trailed off at the mention of the possibility. But he could feel it. He could feel it in his gut, right where she elbowed him.

But how would he explain _that_ to his brother when he barely understood it himself?

Only seconds later did they hear the muffled roar of a Cadillac's engine as the mysterious woman returned her car to the parking lot. Sam stood, rushing over to the window and carefully peaking through the heavy curtains.

He looked back at Dean, "It's her."

He nodded and stood, tossing the rag on the desk top and tucking his gun in his waistband. Sam followed suit as they moved to the door, listening for the sound of footsteps.

This talk was happening whether she liked it or not.

* * *

Jane pulled into the drive way, the Cadillac slightly skidding to a halt in the gravel, which crunched beneath her boots as she bounded up those godforsaken mossy steps and into the inn lobby.

"Oh Madame!" The desk clerk said, catching her attention with the raise of his hand, "You're back. There are two gentlemen who are..." His words were cut off as she ran up the flight of stairs to her room, ignoring him.

"Huh," he scoffed, "how rude."

 _They're probably waiting for me,_ Jane deduced, stopping at the top of the stairs and leaning against the adjacent wall, out of sight. She panted heavily, catching her breath and calming her heartbeat as she pulled out her gun.

With one more sigh of resolution, she turned into the hall, her Taurus held out in front of her as she shuffled quickly to her room.

She stared at the room number, 38.

"If I die here, then 38 is definitely _not_ my number." She said with a chuckle of discomfort in an effort to ease the tension inside her.

She turned her back on the door, facing the room of those two men, knowing they were most likely waiting for her. It was only a matter of time before the cowards emerged from their hiding spot.

* * *

"Do you see her?" Sam asked, waiting in anticipation behind his older brother.

"Just give it a second, damnit, what are you, five?" Dean replied, annoyed, "And stop tapping your foot. What's wrong with you?"

Sam stood up straighter, looking down at the floor and then back at Dean, his forehead wrinkling as he met his brother's now concerned eyes, "I guess I'm just nervous. We don't know what's going to happen out there. I hate that." He admitted. Dean knew Sam hated resulting to a fight, especially when they never intended to.

But most of the time, it was necessary, and Sam knew that too.

Dean turned away from the door, leaning against it and crossing his arms, "Is that all?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's just..." Sam began, "if she _is_ a hunter, why would she..." His words were cut off by the sound of footsteps resonating down the empty hallway. Dean pushed off the door and immediately drew his gun. Sam took out his as well and joined his brother at the door, nodding to him and grabbing the door knob.

Dean quickly flipped off the light as Sam peered out into the open hallway. There she was, the girl who drives a Cadillac, leaning against her door as if in defeat. But it didn't last long. Sam's eyes widened as he witnessed her look of defeat turn into a silent strength. She was facing their room now, her gun in one hand at her side, her shoulders back, an unreadable expression present on her delicate features. She was waiting for them in a patience that made Sam's body tense uncomfortably.

"I think she's waiting for us in the hall." Sam whispered, looking at Dean over his shoulder. Dean's eyes narrowed skeptically, pushing Sam aside as he looked through their door left slightly ajar, raising an eyebrow in confusion. His bottom lip pushed up as he took out his gun.

He turned to Sam, "Well then, let's go. We're here in this room like peeping toms when she's out there all confident and strong and what not?" He smirked, "We're not just going to let her show us up like that are we?"

Sam chuckled, "No we're not." he agreed. Cautiously, they entered the hallway, making themselves known. They watched silently as the woman's gun raised, her free hand steadying her aim as she held it in front of her. Sam and Dean did the same, silently stepping forward along the wall, so that they ended up directly opposite her in the hallway, facing her confident figure. Her posture was commanding, but the boys saw something in her eyes, a fear they knew all too well.

A fear that could never be completely hidden.

She was the first to speak, "Hi." She said with firm acknowledgement, nodding to the boys, "At the count of three, we lower our weapons. Understood?" It was more like a confirmation than a question.

Dean nodded in response, glancing at his brother who did the same.

"Alright. One...two...three." All three put their hands above their head, slowly kneeling to the ground, watching each other as they did so. Once all three weapons hit the carpet, the air became less thick, and the woman relaxed her shoulders a bit without visibly letting her guard down.

"Alright. Now that we've got that out of the way," she began, stepping forward into the middle of the hall, her eyes fixed on the suspicious glare she was getting from Dean, "how about you tell me who you are."

"Oh come on, I don't think that's fair since we don't exactly know you. Or do you usually beat up strangers." Dean scoffed, narrowing his green eyes and looking at Sam to emphasize his sarcastic disbelief. "And anyway, I don't think you've told us your name?"

The girl raised an eyebrow, her lips twisting slightly upward, threatening to smirk. Sam saw a flash of amusement in her eyes before they turned cold and disheartened once more.

"Oh, I'm sorry, how rude of me." She retorted, her sarcasm dripping from her words. She took another step forward, as if she was daring the Winchesters to do the same. Dean raised his chest, standing tall as he took a step towards her, looking down at her now (Surprisingly, though, he didn't tower over her like he did most people. Dean was tall, and his brother was even taller, but so was this mystery girl before them. It was almost amusing to Sam as he looked on at his brother who was trying to use his height to be assertive, knowing all the while that _she_ was was trying to do the same.)

She held out her hand—with that same smirk threatening to twist her lips—as Dean stepped forward, meeting her in the center of the hall way, "My name is Jane. And who might you two be?"


	10. Chapter 8 - Finally

**Finally! Worlds collide and their lives are now forever intertwined.**

 **What will happen next? :)**

* * *

 _"Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again."_  
 _~ Richard Bach_

"My name is Jane, and who might you two be?"

Sam watched from behind his brother, waiting for him to respond. Dean's eyes moved from her hand to her suppressed smirk as she stood waiting, her hand held out in front of her as her other rested on her hip. The longer they stood there in silence, the slower time seemed to become.

Dean's eyes once again flicked between the woman's hand and her face. He was trying to figure her out. Almost an hour ago, she had come at them with a knife after they found blood in her bathroom sink, and now she wanted to be friends? It just didn't add up, but he knew that standing there any longer would make his head explode, and possibly Sam's, judging by his brother's incessant foot tapping.

"Jane." Dean finally stated, not even bothering to return her waiting handshake. He looked back at his brother, nodding for him to step forward so that he joined them in the middle of the hallway. Sam eyed her hand, feeling the urge to shake it out of common courtesy, but he held back, unsure of what his brother was planning to do next.

"My name is Dean, this is my brother Sam. We're hunters, and judging by the way we met earlier, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you are too."

Jane dropped her hand, her smirk fading. Her face was a stone-faced calm and unreadable. She looked between the two brothers in front of her. After a few more seconds, she looked at Dean, his bright green eyes serious and trained on her. She held his gaze for a breath, and then with a nod, turned, picked up her gun, and went back to her room, leaving the Winchesters in the hallway.

Dean bent down and grabbed his gun as well, leaving Sam and going back to their room, saying nothing until Sam closed the door behind him.

Sam watched as Dean fell onto his bed and sighed, closing his eyes with a look of frustration.

"Alright, what the hell was that?" Sam asked in exasperation, "Dude I thought we were supposed to be talking to her and getting answers, not having staring contests and standing in awkward silence! I mean if that's all that we were planning to do, a little heads up would've been..."

"She's not it." Dean interrupted. He sat up, brushing a hand over his face tiredly. It was like he'd expected something exciting but got nothing close.

"What?" Sam asked.

"She's not it, Sammy. She's got nothing to do with the case. Don't ask me how I know, I just..."

"Do?" Sam finished with a knowing look.

"Sam..."

"Hey I get it," Sam raised his hands in defeat, setting his gun down on the table, "if you know, you know."

"Look, she's a hunter, that much is true. What she's doing here, I can't tell ya, but it's not for what we think. I've seen that look. She's running from something. And whatever it is, she doesn't need a couple of hunters to worry about on top of it all."

"But you aren't the least bit curious as to who she thought we were?" Sam asked in disbelief. The fact that his brother was being so passive about the whole situation was beyond him.

"Of course I'm..." Dean sighed, sitting up a bit straighter on the bed, "of course I'm curious, but, man I'm not gonna lie, that was probably one of the weirdest situations I've ever been in." He chuckled. Sam joined in, a light air settling on the room.

"So..." Sam asked in anticipation, a smile growing on his face.

"No. Sam, it's none of our business." Dean replied, shaking his head.

Then, not a moment later, both were out the door, scrambling down the hall to Room 38 and knocking on the door. After a couple minutes, the door opened, but it wasn't Jane who answered, it was the old woman who had checked them in earlier, a cart packed with cleaning supplies behind her.

"What do you two want?" The woman asked, a scowl written on her face.

"Hi, where is the girl who was staying in this room, um... Jane?" Sam asked, looking down at the small elderly woman as he glanced into the room.

"Oh her? Eh, she left a couple minutes ago. Poor thing could barely get her coat on fast enough. Why? She your girlfriend or something?" The lady scoffed, her voice raspy like a chain smoker's.

"Look lady, we just want to talk to her." Dean cut in.

"Well that's too bad sugar. Where she is ain't none of my business."

"Can we just have five minutes? We need to check her room."

"Oh, so she's _your_ girlfriend huh? Fine. Five minutes." The old woman responded, grabbing her cart and rolling out into the hallway as the Winchesters filed in, closing the door behind them.

"Okay," Sam said, immediately beginning to rummage through the empty drawers for anything Jane could've left behind, "so what are we looking for exactly."

"Anything I guess. If we want to talk to her, the first thing we should do is find her, right?" Dean said matter-of-factly, looking through the bedside table.

Sam squeezed into the tiny bathroom for the second time that night, looking through the drawers and finally coming to the trash bin, grimacing as he reached inside. He found two used wads of tissues, a broken comb, and a box with a receipt for a bakery.

"Hey Dean! I think I got something!"

"Oh yeah?" Dean called as he looked under the bed.

"Yeah, a number on a box from that bakery we stopped by earlier. It looks like Jane made a friend there too." Sam replied, walking out of the bathroom and handing Dean the box with the phone number. "You think this will help at all?"

"It's worth a shot."


	11. Chapter 9 - Rescue

_"Non nobis solum nati sumus."_  
( _Not for ourselves alone are we born.)_  
 _~ Marcus Tullius Cicero_

The Winchesters burst out the door of room 38 and towards the stairwell, a pounding left in their wake identical to the pounding in their chests. If they wanted to find her, they had to soon and fast. No longer were they only hunting whatever was killing the people of Chancelorville, but now they were hunting down another hunter. Or at least Dean thought she was. He had suspected that with those skills, what else could she be? Although there was a nagging chance that she _was_ something else, they had no time to speculate.

He already was beginning to question how the whole encounter in the hallway went down. Barely any words were spoken between them, and what Dean supplied was a statement that he perceived as obvious information. He had that overwhelming feeling that she understood every word. You could see it in her hazel eyes. He had meant to interrogate her, ask her about who she was and why she was watching them, but the timing felt...wrong somehow. Dean scoffed at the thought as he unlocked the Impala and turned the key in the ignition.

"Wow, she was in a hurry. We turned turn our heads for a minute and the next, she disappears. That's not suspicious at all." Sam said sarcastically. He had grabbed their bag of guns and other essentials and was now rummaging through it, a flashlight clutched between his teeth, as Dean drove down the dark driveway.

"Mhmm" was all Dean replied.

Satisfied with what he found, Sam zipped up the bag and placed it in the backseat. He turned off his flashlight, "You alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, just...trying to concentrate."

"It sure gets dark here. I bet the sky is filled with stars. Reminds me of the origin of the name Ursa Major and the discovery of Ursa Minor..." Sam sighed, glancing over at his brother.

"Mhmm."

"Dude, come on, you were seriously about to let me give you a spontaneous lecture on constellations?"

"What?" Dean asked, turning his gaze slightly to see Sam's concerned one.

"Dean, what are you thinking about."

"What're you, my therapist now?"

"Ever since we 'met' that girl...Jane...you've been acting kind of...'stoic'."

"Stoic?" Dean scoffed, "the only thing stoic in this car is you talking about stars. I'm fine Sam, I'm just thinking about her. She sure was interesting, wasn't she." He chuckled.

"Huh, yeah I guess she was." Sam laughed, stopping short on account of his almost-broken nose.

* * *

Jane had only one goal in mind: to get as far away from town as she could in the short time she had wasted staying there.

There were hunters in Chancellorville. _Just my luck_ , she thought. She had no intention of getting mixed up in that lifestyle, at least not when it involved other hunters. She could easily carry out a solo mission with no qualms whatsoever. But whenever others were involved, she was usually stuck saving their asses while trying to protect her own.

 _Who really knows why those two are here. But I can't get caught up in hunting down some monster eating these people. That's their job, and not my_ only _one._ She continued arguing with herself as she passed the gazebo in the town square, the glow from the quaint little bakery she had visited earlier lightly reflecting in her windshield and side windows.

Jane grumbled as her stomach started to, making her stomach feel like a black hole, full of nothing. She was _still_ hungry.

"Perfect timing." She grumbled, rolling her eyes. She couldn't risk stopping for too long, but the road ahead was long. She dug through her backpack for money and the box that had concealed her previous pie. But she could only find just shy of $3.00, and the box, with the phone number from the attractive cashier, was gone.

"Shit." She mumbled, resting her head on her backpack in defeat. _Well there's at least one reason to stop by the bakery one last time._

 _Why not? Who knows what 3 bucks will get me?_

Stuffing her money in her back pocket as she tucked her gun into her waistband, she ran across the street to the bakery.

* * *

"It hasn't been that long, right? She couldn't have gotten that far. She can't exactly 'Vin Diesel' her way through a town like this, can she?" Dean speculated in frustration. They were almost to the town square. If they didn't find her soon, then they might never.

He spotted the soft glow of the bakery ahead as they neared the town square. The sides of the street were almost completely devoid of cars, except for a red Cadillac parked directly across the street from the bakery.

"Bingo." Dean shouted in triumph as he pulled up behind the car.

"That sure was lucky." Sam said, his voice unsettled.

"Yeah...it was pretty lucky huh." Dean said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, "We should probably keep our guard up." He said, taking out his gun and checking the magazine as he stepped out of the Impala. Sam followed suit as they hurried across the street.

The lights were dimmed but the door was unlocked. The tiny bell alerting the presence of new customers jingled as the brothers step inside cautiously. They heard footsteps in the back room as a young man appeared wearing a t-shirt with the album cover for Eye of the Tiger on it.

"Sorry, we're closed." The boy said as he adjusted his _pants_.

Dean paused, taking in the boy's tousled hair, "um, yeah. Sorry, we're just looking for someone. A girl? Short hair, about 5'11" or so...feisty?"

"Hmm," the boy looked up at nothing in particular, his mouth twisting into a pout as he exaggerated thinking, "nope. Doesn't ring a bell. And I think I would remember a customer like that."

"Right." Sam said as he took out his FBI badge,"Mind if we take a look around?"

"You two are cops?" He asked hesitantly.

"You could say that."

"Look, I'm just an employee. Whatever is going on here, I'm going to need to tell my manager...who just happened to have left for the night. I'm usually in charge of cleanup." He added begrudgingly. He didn't seem like he was up to anything, but Dean could tell something was off.

"We're gonna have a look in your back room, if you don't mind." He said, moving behind the counter without waiting for a response.

"Wait a minute, you can't go back there!"

Sam raised an eyebrow at the young man, "And why is that?"

"Well, I, uh..."

Suddenly, a crash was heard from the back, like pots and pans on the marble floor. Rustling and the cock of a rifle followed as someone emerged from the darkness, stepping through the threshold and hurrying past the counter. It was Jane. Some of her clothes were gone, and she had a patch of band aids over most of her inner forearm.

Without any room for the Winchesters to process the scene unfolding before them, they watched as Jane, who happened to be missing her shirt and her shoes, hastily emerge from behind the counter, her eyes fixed on the bakery employee.

"Jane, baby, what's with the gun?" The boy suddenly smirked, his clueless air disappearing instantly. He opened his arms, taking a step towards her as his smirk morphed into a vicious sneer that showed off rows of razor sharp teeth, "Don't be like that..."

"Don't you dare take another step you blood-sucking bastard." She warned. Her grip tightened around the rifle as she widened her stance.

"Wait, this guy's a vamp?" Dean interjected, pulling out his gun as well and moving to Jane's side.

"It took you long enough Winchester." The vampire growled.

"How do you...where's your nest? I'm guessing yours is the one behind all the corpses being dumped around town. Didn't think your activity would attract any attention?"

"We're just doing what we need to to survive. We're preparing, and we aren't going to let anything keep us from that. There are more than seven billion of you bloody humans on this earth. Get over the loss of a few and leave my family alone."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jane hissed, taking a step towards him, "And if you're trying to keep such a low profile, why would you express false interest in me, huh?"

"You think that was false?" The boy laughed, looking her up and down, stopping at her exposed bra and licking his lips.

"Perverted bastard." She muttered.

"What did you mean by preparing?" Sam asked, raising his gun as well as he joined the confrontation on the other side of Jane, his tall figure towering in comparison to, well, everyone.

"Answer him, damn you!" Jane demanded, "Max!"

"Ha, you think I'm going to submit that easily? Betray my family like that?"

"You mean your nest?" Dean clarified.

"Whatever floats your boat sailor. I'm not telling you nothin. But for the record, when _he_ comes, you won't even stand a chance. No one does. Why do you think every thing that crawls and kills on this earth is hunkering down and out of the game? They're getting ready for _him_ , or rather, ready to _avoid_ him. If you know what's good for ya, you'll let the monsters go about their business and stay out of our way."

"Enough with the vague bullshit. Who is _he_?"

"Ah ah ah, Jane, you didn't say please." Max sported a devilish smile from ear to ear, showcasing his fangs once more, causing a chill to wash over her and the two brothers. Jane's breath hitched, and her eyes widened, as if she were recounting a horror unimaginable.

"Would you just answer the damn question?" Dean said, raising his voice. He was starting to get really irritated with this guy. He glanced over at Jane, who now stood rigid with her gun lowered.

"I guess our little stand off is over." Max said with a tsk. "Too bad. I would of rather loved finishing her off. Oh well." And with a flick of his wrist, he waved at them and was off, bursting through the bakery door and down the street.

"Shit!" Dean yelled as Sam instantly ran after him, "Jane! Snap out of whatever this is and help us goddammit. We need to catch that bastard." There wasn't much time. After a minute of waiting for a response, Dean cursed under his breath, deciding there was no helping her, and hurried off to follow his brother.

* * *

He could hear the fire of a gun, Sam's gun, in the distance, and in the dim light of the street lamps, Dean rushed across town toward the noise in desperation. Protecting his brother was the single most important thing to him, and was top priority on hunts, because who really knew how many times they would die and come back? Or when the vicious cycle of immortality would stop?

He turned on his heel into a back alley, hearing the malicious giggles of that Edward Cullen wannabe echo down the narrow passage.

"I know you're there!" Sam's voice sounded dismembered by the echoes, bouncing off the walls and dissipating into the almost pitch black darkness.

"Sammy?!" Dean called into the darkness. A few footfalls later, Sam emerged, unscathed to Dean's relief.

"Did you find him?"

"No, I lost him. I don't know where he could of...Dean! Behind you!"

Max jumped down from a rusty fire escape along the perimeter of the alley, kicking Dean in the face as he stuck the landing. All around them, more figures appeared, as if out of thin air, circling them. Their white daggers of teeth shone in what little light was provided by the moon, grins of evil delight on their faces. Some even began eyeing the Winchesters' veins out of hunger.

"Well well. Who knew hunters could be so stupid." Max laughed as he paced around the circle, gesturing with his arms as he addressed his gang. "I mean, I knew that you were, but to fall into such an obvious trap, you're losing your touch boys."

"You must really want to die." Dean growled, pulling a knife from his jacket.

"Ha? You expect me to believe you're going to kill me with that toothpick?"

"Well, why don't you call off your friends and we can see, man-to-man if you aren't just all talk?" Dean challenged.

"Dean, I don't think that challenging this guy to a fight is the wisest thing to do right now." Sam warned, taking a step back as he eyed the newest members of the group around him. They just kept coming.

 _We must be really close to the nest_ , he thought.

"I'd listen to your brother if I were you." Max said, pulling out his own knife. He rushed forward in a gust of wind, his vampirism showing off its true power. In only a moment, he held the blade to Dean's throat, hard enough that it drew a drop of blood.

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

"Now comes the fun part. A decision, really. Do I cut you deep and finish you right here in the street? Or do I kill you only a little and drag you home to share you with my family? Either way, I see no reason why I can't go back and finish what I started with that fine piece of ass standing frozen in my bakery." He grinned, like a little boy who had just killed a cat and discovered the warped sense of pleasure he felt as a result.

"How about I just kill you where you stand!" Jane screamed in rage as she sprinted towards the bloodsucker through his startled posse. Max's surprise was all Dean and Sam saw before his head was rolling on the pavement, his body falling limp with the knife still gripped in his hand. The vampires scattered after that, too in shock to even dare attack whoever had just killed their leader.

Jane stood there, looking down at the head of the bastard who had captured her, tried to violate her and drink her dry. Her tight grip around the machete left her knuckles a pale white, a frightening contrast to the deep red of the dead man's blood dripping down the blade.

"Jane?" Sam asked, cautiously approaching her. Dean stumbled over to his brother, eyeing the head as he maneuvered through the dark. She looked up at them and paused. She had a dazed, faraway look in her eye, almost like she was possessed. That's when Dean saw it. Her eyes, that deep hazel had been replaced by a dark, dazzling gold, warmer than a shiny gold brass, but not completely yellow. It was beautiful, and it reminded him of gilded gates. A shine quickly passed through them. Was it a trick of the light, Dean didn't know. As he rubbed his own eyes, her golden orbs slowly converted back to the stunning hazel, causing her to falter in her posture. Two pairs of strong arms reacted immediately, catching her as her legs gave out from under her. She came through for them. Now it was time for them to do the same for her.


	12. Chapter 10 - Decisions

**Tip: If you don't remember where we left off in the present, go check out the prologue :)**

 **This chapter switches between present and past.**

* * *

 _"Trust your instincts, and make judgements on what your heart tells you. The heart will not betray you."_  
 _~David Gemmell, Fall of Kings_

 **The Present**

Jane couldn't fight the despair anymore. She dashed out the door, letting it slam behind her. Fumbling with her keys, she struggled to focus through her tears, her vision blurry. Finally unlocking the Cadillac, she jumped in and shoved the key into the ignition and the car roar to life, speeding out of the parking lot. As she left the motel in the distance, she couldn't help but fight with herself. She knew that she was the only thing standing in between them and their plan. It was idiotic, to think that the four of them could take on such a powerful and ancient force as _He_ was.

The tears kept falling as she sped off into the darkness. Nothing had happened in their favor before. Nothing. Why did they have so much faith in this plan of theirs? In her? As her thoughts drifted to the boys, her car drifted to the left side of the road. There was a pair of headlights glaring at her through the night, sparking a moment of clarity in her that was enough to make her swerve back to the right side. Her heart raced as she pulled to the shoulder of the road and onto dirt and gravel.

That's when her tears became waterfalls. Why did she have to leave? Why did she have to go against what they thought would work?

She knew why. It was because it had already been tried. Not by them of course, but nevertheless it had been tried. And it failed. Jane slammed her hands against the steering wheel in conflicting anger.

"I thought if I left, it'd stop them from going through with it!" She sobbed, "But I should have known better. I know _them_ better than that! They'll go through with it. They'll go through with it!" She screamed. It stung her throat and she felt sick to her stomach. No matter what—she knew—they would try anything to save the world.

"They can't be füçking martyrs for everyone! They can't d..." Jane sniffed, her eyes widening in horror. They were going to die. All three of them. If she wasn't there, they would have an even lesser chance of survival. Sure they had Castiel with them, but the plan required both him _and_ _her_.

There was another thing too. How would they even get the chance to carry it out? How would they even get close enough? They needed help, and if she was going to go back to them—every particle in her body was screaming at her to turn her red Cadillac around and speed back to that hotel—then she would have to find help, and she knew just where to go, even though she didn't like it.

The only issue now was time, of which she virtually had none.

* * *

 **The Past**

Dean placed Jane's limp body in the back seat of the Impala, taking off his jacket to cover her as he and his brother rushed back into the bakery. They had no idea how much time they had before another wave of vampire teenagers were on their tail, and they weren't planning on sticking around to find out.

"Alright, the back room."

"Jane's stuff must be back there." Sam said as he climbed over the counter and made his way to the dark room, pushing open the door with an old "Employees Only" sign dangling from the handle.

Dean followed, taking a deep breath in as he clicked on his flashlight.

"Oh..ugh. What the hell is that smell?"

"Well, now we know where his boss went." Sam coughed out, aiming his flashlight at the corner of the room, where among the shelves of various baking tools, laid the rotting corpse of an old man.

"What do you think? About two or...three days old?" Dean mused, tilting his head as he inspected the dead, scrunching up his nose.

"At least. Nothing like having a human blood bag around during your lunch break."

"Yeah. Oh hey, check it out." Dean stalked towards another corner of the room, where a pile of torn rope and a back pack sat. The back pack's jagged edges were from whatever had been stuffed inside, sticking out and trying to force its way through. "Man. He tied her up and everything. No wonder she wanted to kill him. Do you really think she would bring her weapons in here? She doesn't seem like the type who would let someone get the drop on her easily."

"Maybe she didn't know," Sam supplied, "but we can ask her later. Right now we need to find her clothes and anything else that might give us answers." He grabbed the back pack and slung it over his shoulder. It looked tiny in comparison to his broad build, making Dean chuckle as Sam adjusted the strap.

"Alright Dora, can you look through the backpack and see if you can find her keys?" Dean smirked, looking around on the floor for Jane's shirt and shoes.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation and ignoring his brother, Sam found the keys in no time. "Max must have gone into her car to make sure his suspicions about her were true?" He mused.

"What, his suspicions about her being a hunter? You'd think her flannel shirt would be enough." He laughed, trying to find amusement in Sam's face, and upon finding none, he awkwardly quieted himself. "Anyway," he cleared his throat, "whoever that guy was, he sure won't be bothering her again."

"Yeah, she sought to that."

"How do you think she..."

"I don't know. I guess that's just another question we'll have to add to the list." Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, right. So we better hurry it up here." Dean said, going back to searching the floor in the dark recesses of the store.

Sam located a switch on the wall. Flipping it made the darkness quickly disappear with the flickering of overhead lights. He squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness, taking in their surroundings. The room was smaller than Sam had pictured, with faded teal walls and a dusty concrete floor. There were piles of bakery supplies in one corner, a door that Sam suspected led to the kitchen, a desk with papers like taxes and drawings of what appeared to be cake designs along the wall facing him. On the wall opposite, two hooks, with leather straps hanging stiffly from them, were spattered in red with torn ropes strewn on the floor below.

"How much you wanna bet that Max guy was into S&M?" Dean said, pursing his lips in distaste at the sight. Sam turned to him in annoyance, but his brother continued to stare.

Dean cleared his throat, "Seriously, seeing this, imagining what he did to her...I'm glad Jane killed that sonofabitch." He said, his voice low.

"Me too." Sam nodded. He started rummaging through the papers on the desk, looking for something, anything to aid their understanding of whatever Max had 'warned' them about. If something was coming for them, they needed to be as prepared as possible.

There were mountains of receipts and piles of useless papers, nothing even remotely close to what they were looking for, whatever that was. Sam dug through the drawers, feeling around blindly under more stacks of papers for hidden compartments. Next, he got on his knees and checked under the desk, brushing his fingertips across the wood finish lightly. In the center of the wood plane, he found something roughly carved and jagged under his touch.

"Dean," Sam called as he pushed away the chair and laid onto his back, scooting under the desk.

"Did you find something?" Dean asked as he got down on his knees.

"Yeah, I think so. It's carved into the wood, but...I don't recognize it. Do you have your phone on you?" Sam asked, holding out his hand and pushing some stray hair out of his face with the other.

"Yeah I do, scoot over." Dean said, moving to lay down beside him.

"What? No. Just give me the phone!"

"Remember the last time I 'just gave you my phone'?" Dean mocked, shoving Sam against the side of the desk to make room for himself.

"It was an accident! How was I supposed to know at the time that we were dealing with Gremlins? I needed a light."

"Well, there's this new thing I like to call a flashlight." Dean retorted, briefly shining his in Sam's face and snickering.

"Would you just take the picture already?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dean shoved his way in next to his brother, "What the hell?"

"What do you think it is? Enochian?"

"Cas would know, I guess."

"Of course Cas would know." Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes and as he shimmied out from under the desk.

Sam followed, having a bit of a harder time due to his moose-like build. "Nice find, Sammy. Let's head home. Did we get all of Jane's stuff?"

"Uh, yeah I think so. Did you find her shoes and shirt?"

"Yep. Let's go." Dean helped Sam up and they headed out of the bakery, turning off the lights and taking a pie from the display case for the road.

"Are you serious?" Sam said as he watched his brother in disbelief, although the action didn't exactly surprise him.

"What? It's apple." Dean said as he walked out the door, Sam chuckling and following him.


	13. Chapter 11 - Tension

**The plot thickens! New characters and a new perspective from Jane's side of things joins the story! :)**

* * *

 _"The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, is in its loyalty to each other."_  
 _~ Mario Puzo_

Josh Davidson burst through the heavy double doors of his father's study, two men in suits following close behind. In the dim light and dusty air, a man with gray hair, whitening around his temples, sat idly in a supremely cushioned arm chair behind a maroon oak wood desk. His brow furrowed as his son walked in, making the creases and wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes more defined.

"Joshua, my son, why have you disturbed me at such an hour?" The old man questioned, resting his elbows on the desk and leaning forward, waiting for an answer.

Josh hesitated, quickly glancing back at the two men behind him before clearing his throat, "It's about...Jane, Father."

"Well, out with it. What? Have you come to tell me that not even you and a couple of demon scum could prevent her from disappearing? You understand how important she is to this family, do you not?" He raised an eyebrow, making Josh gulp. His father's voice was calm, sinisterly so, which frightened him.

"I...These two tracked her down a couple states over." Josh stepped to the side, presenting the two men who were with him. He folded his arms and silently celebrated that the pressure to explain was no longer on him.

"And who might you two be?" Josh's father inquired, patiently waiting with a stern glare.

One of the men stepped forward, flashing his pitch black orbs and a smirk as he walked up to the desk.

"The name's Quentin. My buddy here, he's Yolando. We got a call from two of our kind that were following your precious daughter. They said they spotted her at a diner over in Connecticut. We drove over to go help out and next thing we know we find our guys dead." Quentin's facial expression turned cold, and his fists clenched at his sides.

His partner stepped up to the desk next to him, "You failed to mention that she had a knife that could kill demons."

"Because that knife is _not_ for killing demons. It's for killing _everything_. For taking life away. And I did not fail to mention anything. They knew she had a special knife with her. Something that I want back. She chose to leave us, and she doesn't deserve to represent us with such reckless, selfish behavior. I simply wanted her returned with the knife. They _belong_ to this family, and I will not stand for our legacy to be tarnished by her running."

"That's a lie and you know it." Quentin said, his eyes flicking to black once more. Josh slowly stepped forward, drawing his own knife. Yolando's head whipped around, his eyes dark. He sent Josh flying back against the wall behind him, looking at Quentin for permission to take his punishment further. Quentin shook his head and leaned over the desk, his face just inches away from the Father.

"We aren't your slaves," he hissed, "I refuse to let any more of my men do your dirty work without the details. You may be paying Hell in souls, but that doesn't mean we can't take our own." Quentin glared menacingly, a devilish grin forming as Josh's father only glared back, "Awe, does big bad Daddy-o not have anything to say? What's wrong Pops? Demon got your tongue? Or are you holding back 'cause you're just God's little bitçh?" He spat, "How is the man upstairs anyway? I hear he's letting prayers go to voice mail nowadays. It's a shame, really. Makes sense why sweet little Jane left. She's ashamed of what her family has become..." Suddenly, the old man stood from his chair, looking down at Quentin. He was easily three inches taller, or at least his posture and overpowering manner made it seem that way.

"Leave this study, or I will kill you myself." He growled, not backing down from the challenging demon. Quentin kept eye contact for another moment before replacing his black orbs with normal greens. He motioned for his partner to back down, letting Josh slump to the floor like a rag doll.

"Treat our kind with more gratitude and respect or..."

"Treat you with respect? Ha, what sort of warped sense of respect do _you_ deserve?" Josh scoffed weakly from his place on the floor. Yolando made a move towards him, but Quentin grasped his shoulder firmly.

He continued, "... _or_ you'll lose our loyalty, end our 'partnership', just like you did all those years ago when you lost the trust of those holier-than-thou winged bastard cousins of yours."

"How dare you disrespect me." Josh's father spoke sternly as he stepped around his desk, "leave my house and go find her at once." His voice shook Josh to the core, but he didn't dare show weakness. Not in front of a demon, and especially not in front of his father.

"Easy Tobias," Quentin held up his hands in surrender as he stepped back, making his way slowly towards the door, "we just want to make sure we're on the same page."

"Sorry for disturbing you." Yolando smirked and added, "oh and by the way, we found your _other_ one."

"Yeah, so stay calm and give us some more time will ya?" Quentin said nonchalantly as he walked out of the study.

"Good day, Mr. Davidson." Yolando said, flicking his black orbs at Josh as he followed his partner, slamming the door behind them.

* * *

Jane's body ached, her head throbbing like she'd been recovering from a migraine. She scolded herself for using her "trump card" so recklessly before as the memories came flooding back to her.

 _Well at least that sonofabitch Max is dead_ , she thought.

Jane sighed, staring up at the ceiling...of a car that was not her own. The sudden recognition caused her to try and sit up quickly, the bare skin of her shoulders made a sort of ripping sound as they were released from the stick of the leather seats. But the movement made her feel dizzy, so she settled onto her back once more. She winced at the uncomfortable pinch the movement had left, but she kept quiet. Where was she? She felt a lot more calm than she thought she would as she stared up at the ceiling, watching the lights of bright street lamps reflect across in a flutter.

The car slowed to a stop, at what Jane assumed was a red light. The soft jolt of the brake was all it took for another round of headaches to invade. She groaned as she clumsily tried to turn on her side, the pinching of the seat leather sticking firmly against her skin causing her to muster more brute force to complete the action. But the stoplight was short lived, and the car took off into the night once more, pushing Jane back against the seat again.

" _Oof_." Jane winced as she rubbed her temples.

"Dean, I think she's awake." She heard a whisper from the front seat.

"Everything alright back there?" Was the response, a deep male voice that smoothly brought her to her senses.

"Who...who are you?" Jane groaned as she slowly tried sitting upright, rubbing the back of her head and discreetly scanning the back for a seatbelt. There were none, of course.

"You'll recognize us soon enough." The driver replied, going back to concentrating on the road. Her vision was still blurry but she soon remembered their voices.

"You're safe now Jane," the other said, turning in the passenger seat to look back at her with sympathy in his tone.

"...Winchester? Sam..." She recalled their meeting in that hallway just hours before, and the memory hurt.

"Yeah. That's me. And this is my brother De..."

"Holy shit! Where's my girl?!" Jane panicked suddenly, looking around frantically out the windows. She patted her pockets as she continued to search for her backpack and keys, not even bothering to acknowledge her lack of clothing.

"Your...girl?" Sam raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes! My girl! My _car_! Where is she?" She stared wide-eyed at him, hoping his answer would soothe her.

"Your car is fine. We sent a friend to go pick it up. We're meeting him back...at home. My brother Dean and I..."

"So your friend has my car?" Was all Jane took away from it.

"Uh...yeah." Sam replied hesitantly, unsure of what else to say now.

Jane sighed in relief, resting against the seat, "Oh thank God."

Dean chuckled, "So your car is pretty special to you huh?"

"Reminds me of somebody _else_ I know." Sam mumbled under his breath as he turned to face forward in his seat.

Dean scoffed, "Baby is important to you too Sammy. Don't give me this car obsession crap again." He laughed, making Jane crack a small smile.

"My car is pretty special to me. It was my mom's. And she inherited it from her mother."

"Nice. We inherited this car from our dad." Sam replied.

"What kind of car is this anyway?"

"You mean you don't recognize the engine or interior or anything?" Dean gasped with exaggerated shock as he turned left onto a back road.

Jane chuckled, "Well it is a bit dark, but judging by the shape and engine, I'd say it's a model from around the late 1960's or 70's. What is this, a Chevy?"

"Damn, she hit the nail on the head." Dean whispered excitedly to Sam.

"This car is a black, 1967 Chevy Impala. It was our dad's car for years, and then my brother inherited it. It's kind of like a second home to us."

"Yep." Dean agreed, "But this...this place has become our first home." He said as he slowly turned into a driveway around a hillside.

"Where the hell are we?" Jane asked in awe at the huge hidden garage, waiting for the Winchesters to unload the Impala.

"It's our home." Sam said nonchalantly as he motioned for her to follow him inside. They made their way down the stairs and into the library, Dean holding a bag of guns and trailing behind them. Jane had completely forgotten about her head now as she perused the various leather bound books of lore in the library.

Dean set the bag on the table, "Bunker, Sweet Bunker." He grinned, making Jane blush and smile back.

"This place is amazing. It almost reminds me of my own ho..."

"Dean." A gruff voice spoke from the top of the stairs. All three hunters turned to see a man (who Jane would definitely qualify as handsome as hell) dressed in a suit and trench coat, his dark hair smoothly combed back, a small smile of welcome on his lips.

"Hey Cas." Sam greeted.

"Nice to see you got here safely." Dean added.

"Who is that?" Jane asked in awe. With a single blink of her eyes, the man disappeared from sight. Jane rubbed her eyes and looked back to the top of the stairs, but he wasn't there. Then, with a whoosh of what sounded like the huge wings of a bird cutting through the air, she froze, feeling the presence of someone behind her. She turned around, only to find herself standing face to face with the disappearing man again, his piercing blue eyes, lit with curiosity, peering down at her with his head cocked to one side.

He leaned down, his face inches from hers. The Winchesters watched what had been a mere few seconds unfold, Dean noticing Jane's muscles tighten at Cas's closeness.

"Uh, Cas?" Dean interjected.

Cas turned his attention to him, "Who is this shirtless young female and why is she here?" He asked looking back at her now red face. She had finally acknowledged the cold draft that now surrounded her and played goosebumps on her bare skin. "Does the car you made me drive all the way here belong to her?" He added with a frown. He obviously didn't like to drive.

"You're the one who drove my girl all the way here?!" Jane answered, her eyes wide. "How was she? How _is_ she?" She grabbed Cas by the coat collar,"You didn't put any scratches on her did you?" She questioned, warning in her eyes that startled all three of them. Cas never broke eye contact with her, noticing gold flash across her fiery hazel orbs.

He grabbed her arms and yanked their hold from him, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to recollect a buried memory. His brow furrowed in puzzlement as he continued in silence, and his expression did not change as he took off his coat and draped it over Jane's shoulders.

"...thanks." Jane mumbled in surprise, matching his puzzled demeanor as she turned to head up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Sam called after her.

"To check on my girl. I have a lot of important stuff in her. I've got to make sure it's all there, and make sure your buddy here didn't dent my car." She responded, her voice a distant echo as she entered the garage.

"Why is she here Dean?" Cas asked, his eyes staring up at the door ajar.

"We ran into some trouble on a case, and she passed out saving our åsses."

"Yeah, we were pretty füçked, weren't we?" Sam scoffed at the memory.

"Something doesn't seem right about her. Her eyes..." Cas began as they heard Jane's footsteps slowly approaching.

Dean turned towards him, suddenly serious, "What about her eyes?"

"Good news! Everything is there. And you, my friend, are off the hook. Nice driving there." Jane said happily, pointing at Cas.

"Thank you. I appreciate the compliment."

"You should! I don't know many angels that are good at driving, or can drive at all." All three men sucked in a breath and stared at her, as if she had discovered some big secret.

Jane rolled her eyes, "Oh come on! He didn't even walk down the stairs."

"But...few hunters even know about the existence of angels."

"Well. I'm not just any hunter." Jane winked. She held out her hand to Cas, "Maybe your friend actually has the decency to shake my hand," she smirked, "and my name is Jane, by the way, Jane Davidson. What's yours?"

Cas stared at her hand before slowly taking it and letting it fall limp in her grip as Jane shook it, "My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord, but I guess you already knew that." (I guess to Jane that would actually make him handsome as _Heaven_ then, haha).

"It's nice to meet you Castiel."

"If you don't mind, may I ask you a question?" He said, not letting go of her hand.

"Sure. Anything." Jane smiled.

He tightened his grip, "You know what I am. Now please tell me, _what_ are _you_?"


	14. Chapter 12 - Bunker

_"With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not."_  
 _~ Sara Gruen, Water for Elephants_

" _What_ are _you_?" Cas asked, keeping his grip around Jane's wrist resolute. She looked down at his hand, then back to his striking blue eyes. She glared at him, demanding that he let her go. When he did not give in, she looked around at the Winchesters for any semblance of help, but they only stood there, confusion and curiosity bright in their eyes.

She looked back to Cas, "What do you mean _what_?"

"I think you clearly understand what I mean." He answered sternly.

"I...I..." Her very existence had already gotten people killed. It may have only been two, but two lives were worth two million. If she told them who she truly was, where she had came from, what would happen? Would the gravity of her very being end the Winchester brothers? She couldn't take that chance, but she also was in no position to leave Castiel's question unanswered.

She looked down at his chest, studying the dark patterns of his faded navy blue tie, "If I tell you the truth, your lives will surely be in danger. I can't...I can't risk that."

"Why would our lives be in danger, Jane?" Sam asked sympathetically, stepping forward with worried eyes.

"Because..." She couldn't bring herself to explain.

"Answer me Jane. You have not known the Winchesters for very long, it seems. They have faced countless dangers and have survived...more or less."

"Yeah Jane," Dean stepped in, "you have nothing to worry about. Whatever it is, we can handle it." He tried to assure, pointing a thumb to his chest. He made an attempt to smile at her, but her defeated posture as Castiel held her firmly kept him from being able to lighten the mood.

"What are you?" Castiel repeated, softening his tone this time as he pulled her away just enough so that he could lift up her chin gently to look at him. His eyes seemed to glow more brilliantly, which sent an overwhelming wave of tranquility over her body.

She gulped, her balled fists relaxing as she took a deep breath, quickly thinking of how she should word her answer.

"They call us...Baltan." The Winchesters watched as Castiel's face contorted into shock, his eyes widening and his mouth slightly agape as he let go of her wrist. He still held her chin as his brow furrowed, his gaze roaming her face as if he was trying to find some sort of evidence to support her statement.

"Baltan?" Sam asked, looking across the room at Dean, who shrugged in response.

"Yes." Jane answered, breaking her eyes away from Cas as she stepped back from him.

"It means 'in his justice' in Enochian." Cas supplied, stepping away and pulling out a chair.

"Enochian? So does that make you...an angel?" Dean asked, letting his words trail off into a whisper as he processed everything.

"No." She answered, making him look back at her, even more perplexed than before. The clicks of typing keys echoed through the bunker, and the two of them turned to see Sam already at his laptop.

"I can't find any immediate information on the 'Baltan'." He reported, looking up from his computer.

"That's because there isn't any." Castiel interjected, "They were never mentioned in the Bible or anywhere else in ancient texts."

"And why is that?" Dean asked from his place in front of one of the book shelves, ceasing his search of possible Men of Letters info on the subject.

"Because," Jane answered with a sigh of remorse for having to explain, "we were created to be a secret. We aren't supposed to be real, or even be known. The only beings aware of our existence are angels and the 'Big Man' himself."

"What, you mean Santa Claus?" Dean quipped, chuckling.

Jane crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him, silencing him instantly, "Cute. But no. The Lord created us to be 'Guardians of The World'. We aren't supposed to be known because if we were, the entire human race would become dependent on us. Can you imagine the sort of chaos that might arise if the powers of the world realized that they weren't truly in control? That whatever happened was not them at all? Or if they had awakened a supernatural crisis without even knowing it, one able to destroy them; to know they are more helpless than they think? Than they could ever comprehend?! They would be clueless and lost. That's why we're here: to make sure that Fate keeps things on schedule and that there isn't any sort of supernatural interference. Everything goes according to plan. My family and the clans that have stemmed from it have been taking care of the world for centuries...or at least they were." Jane hung her head and took another deep breath.

Castiel stood from his chair and offered it to her, which she gladly took. He continued her explanation, "About a decade ago, a sort of violent dispute broke out between the Baltan and their angel cousins, the Principalities..."

"Prin-ci-pal-it-ies..." Sam repeated as he typed the word into his computer. His eyes lit up with the glow of his screen as he scanned the results. "Alright so, not only are Principalities the real deal, but they are also known as the guardians of cities and towns. They basically look after humanity, make sure they don't screw things up."

"So, God has Angels controlling the stock market?"

"Basically." Sam nodded to his brother, closing his laptop and looking across the table at Jane, who glanced in his direction and sat up.

"They protect the balance of humanity," she added, "and they have the responsibility of taking charge of the Angels and the mortal world whenever they see it necessary, which is basically when Fate is 'at a loss'."

"But you said you weren't an angel." Dean clarified, leaning against the bookcase and crossing his arms.

"I'm not. Baltan are...slightly different. 'Princeys' protect the world's nations, cities and towns, making sure those bodies keep order and do what they are meant to do. Basically, they are the eyes in the sky. The Baltan were created to be the 'field agents'. We were made to be more equivalent to the human person so that we could blend in and find the problems that aren't brutally obvious. We work together with the Angels to make sure God's almighty creation doesn't go to sh!t."

"But the Baltan don't have wings." Castiel said.

Sam and Dean looked between Cas and Jane, both noticing a sort of sadness cross Jane's eyes before she held up her head and was serious once more.

"They have certain strengths, such as being blessed with indomitable combatant skills and the ability to regenerate after they are injured, but they cannot fly." Cas continued. "They were made so that they could blend in with humans. They are practically immortal, so they have had millennia to understand humans in a way angels are incapable. That is why Principalities require their partnership..."

"What do you mean by 'practically immortal'? Is there even such a thing as being almost able to not die?" Dean interrupted, staring at Jane for clarification.

"That's ironic coming from you." Sam scoffed, recalling their countless encounters with death. Dean rolled his eyes in response.

Jane looked at Dean, grabbing his attention for a moment and watching his pure green eyes search her hazel ones for answers. Humans were such an enticing and peculiar race sometimes, she thought.

"We still age, just a bit slower than the normal human lifespan. Don't ask me why because I don't know, myself," she paused, glancing at Castiel who also looked at a loss, "but we are able to mature and grow wiser and...I guess that's just the price of being made to be more intimate with the human race."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "So...how old _are_ you?" Jane's cheeks tinted red as she glared at him, "It's just because, you look, kind of...our age, maybe even younger, like...like your early twenties or something..." Dean stuttered in an attempt to save himself. She continued to glare menacingly at him.

"Don't you know that it's rude to ask a woman how old she is?" Jane growled.

"Dean, even I know that to be true." Castiel said, resting a hesitant hand on Jane's shoulder, ready to hold her back if Dean stupidly continued to anger her.

"I-I didn't mean it like that, I just..." He looked up at the ceiling in frustration, damning the situation he'd gotten himself into to Hell, "I'm sorry." He muttered in defeat.

Jane settled down, "It's okay. I was actually wondering when you were going to ask that." She mumbled, connecting their gazes again, smiling a bit and winking at him. He returned the smile with a small chuckle.

"Anyway..." She stood, "the point is that I age. Just to put it out there though, I think I'm around a century old, maybe a couple decades younger? I'm not sure."

"Wow. Then I guess it's pretty uncourteous of us to not offer you a beer." Sam chuckled lightly, standing up from his chair, "Want one?"

"Oh god, yes." Jane answered, briefly laughing along with him. Sam looked at Dean, who nodded. Jane watched Sam's figure disappear into what she suspected was the kitchen.

"So...when your eyes glow..." Dean began, walking across the library so that he stood in front of her.

"What do you mean?" Jane asked carefully, furrowing her brow.

"Your eyes, they...when you were attacking those vamps. Before you kicked their asses, and even before you kicked mine and Sammy's in the hallway, your eyes flashed with gold."

"I..." She looked at Castiel who cocked his head to the side in genuine curiosity.

"I noticed it too, Jane." was all he said.

"Well, I guess it happens when I use my power or when I fight, like when I'm angry. I've seen it happen when fighting with my brother, but, it's not like I've stood in front of a mirror and psyched myself out to see what happens." Jane answered to the best of her ability. The whole mention of the gold glistening in her eyes didn't settle well with her.

"Oh." Dean said, turning towards Sam as he walked out of the kitchen with three beers in hand.

"Thanks Sam." Jane said as she popped her beer open and took a long swig, relishing the refreshing cold fizz on her throat.

"So Jane, I was wondering..." Sam began as he sat down in his seat, taking a sip of his own beer, "Why were you in Chancelorville? I mean, if you are what you say you are, does that mean you were there to help the town?"

"Well, actually..." Jane laughed nervously, "I was running from...some bad people. They've been chasing me for a while, heck, they're probably out there right now...tracking me. That's why I beat you up at the hotel earlier. I thought you might have been a couple of demons. Sorry about that."

"Demons are chasing you?" Dean asked, anger hinting in his otherwise calm tone.

"Yeah. It's a long story."

"Well, we won't _make_ you tell us." Sam assured her, "But you can trust us Jane. We deal with this kind of thing all the time. And if someone is in trouble, we won't hesitate to help."

"Anyway, you're a hunter, right? We've got to stick together." Dean added.

"A hunter? Yeah I mean, I guess, but not an official one by any means." Jane responded.

"The stuff in your back pack certainly says otherwise." Dean countered, smirking.

"Right. Can I have that back now? I'm a bit lacking in the shirt department at the moment." She gestured to her upper body, which was only covered by Castiel's trench coat draped over her shoulders.

"Sure. I'll get it." Dean said, his eyes lingering on her figure as he made his way to the stairs, twirling the Impala's keys around his finger.

"Is there anything else in your car that you need?" Sam offered, making a move to stand up.

"Um, well..." Jane blushed at the kindness, "I do have another bag in the back seat, so if you want to grab that..." She said as Cas tossed Sam the keys to the Cadillac.

"I'll be right back." Sam said with a smile, climbing briskly up the stairs.

Jane watched until he was gone, and hung her head, something still gnawing at her thoughts.

Castiel placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her with sympathy, "Is there something wrong, Jane?"

She looked up at him, and then rested her gaze at the top of the stairs, "Humans aren't supposed to be able to see the gold in my eyes."


	15. Chapter 13 - Search

_"Invisible threads are the strongest ties."_  
 _~ Friedrich Nietzsche_

"So how about getting something to eat? I'm starving!" Dean shouted as he came down the stairs into the bunker library. He grinned at Jane expectantly as Sam followed.

"I'm down if you want to go out." Sam said. Castiel still had his eyes on Jane, mulling over the queer comment she had made just moments before. Dean could see some kind of gleam in her eyes that others couldn't? It was all very strange, but due to the appetites of humans, he would have to address it later.

Jane sighed and smiled back, which felt a bit forced on her end, but she truly was hungry nonetheless, "Sure, sounds good. I could use a drink anyway, unless you have something stronger than your run-of-the-mill beer in this fortress of yours." Her stomach growled as she felt an empty chasm form, "Damn, I guess I'm hungry too."

"Then it's settled. There's a bar down the road."

"Perfect." Jane said, walking over to where her backpack had been placed on the floor by one of the bookcases. She dug around in it for a good half minute before pulling out a faded blue tank top and olive green canvas jacket. She quickly glanced in the men's direction, listening to Dean argue with Sam on what bar nearby had the best food. Seemingly sucked into their conversation, Castiel listening to them attentively, she decided to put aside her reservations in the presence of the Winchesters and said angel and take off Cas's trench coat.

She smoothly reached into her back pack and again pulled out clothes, this time a clean pair of skinny jeans and a pair of black wool socks. She then proceeded to change, slipping off her bloodstained pants, scarred from gravel and grime, and her dirty socks, which stuck to her feet in a cold sweat. It disgusted her seeing the conditions she had run around in for the past couple of days, and she blushed a deep red at the realization that she had met the Winchesters in such a state. But they didn't _seem_ to mind, and that gave her at least a bit of a soundness to her aching thoughts.

She stood up and pulled on her pants, smoothly at first, and then employed a sort of small jig to adjust them to her comfort. She then bent over to pick up her shirt. Feeling eyes on her, she discreetly turned her head to look at her three companions still arguing about food (so stereotypical, she thought). What she found was a pair of green orbs glancing back at her before flicking their attention to Sam, who had started to involve Cas in the discussion. She popped up in embarrassment, cracking her spine. Jane winced, rubbing her lower back with a balled fist before slipping her shirt over her head and pulling on her socks and jacket. She zipped up the back pack and propped it against a wall, walking over to join the boys and tossing Castiel his coat.

"Thanks for lending me this." She said to Cas before addressing all three of them. "You guys decide on a place yet?" She asked amusedly.

"I think we did. Come on Jane, you can ride with us." Sam said, gesturing to the stairs leading to the garage.

"Oh," Jane responded, unconsciously reaching towards her back pocket for her car keys, "I guess I could." Sam raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Dean walked over to Sam and held out his hand. Sam sighed and started handing him the keys to the impala, but Dean shook his head. Sam exchanged glances between his brother and Jane, and then realization flooded his hazel eyes.

"Oh, right. Sorry, I almost forgot." He apologized, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the keys to the Cadillac. Cas had given them to him when he offered to check on Jane's 'girl'. He dropped the keys into Dean's palm.

Jane waited silently as Dean handed her the keys.

"Just follow us so you don't get lost. Cas can ride with you." The corners of his mouth lifted into a slight smirk as he motioned for Sam to follow him to the car.

Jane watched them go and then turned to Castiel, "Looks like today is your lucky day! You get to ride in my car _twice_!" She chuckled, earning a slight grin from the angel. As he followed her to the garage, he swore he heard her speak under her breath, "Humans are strange, quite strange."

* * *

The bar was called "Diego's". It was like any other bar Jane had entered: loud, lively, and reeking of alcohol, but not in a nauseating sense. It was hard to explain, but on the rare occasion her family had allowed her to "take care of" a supernatural disturbance, she had always felt a kind of freedom when she rewarded herself for a job well done. The alcoholic odor was a reminder of how she soothed the thought of having to go back to that retched prison she called home. It became even more so after her mother's passing...

"Hey Jane, what're you in the mood for?" Dean asked, the dull-colored lighting of the establishment making his distinguishing features smooth yet muddled. She squinted until her eyes adjusted and tried to focus on his words above the roar of the music and conversations.

"What?" She shouted back, pushing her way through the crowd to an empty bar stool. He sat next to her and leaned in close to her ear.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, "Or do you just want something to drink?"

His closeness caught her off guard, but she quickly recovered, "Um, sure, I'll eat anything...so, this bar is pretty popular huh?" She gestured to the sea of people around the pool tables and juke box and the booths, and well, basically everywhere that had space. They were lucky to have found a table at all.

"Yeah, I forgot it tends to get like this on the weekends. During the week it's practically dead." He replied as he summoned the bar tender with a raise of his hand.

"The weekend?" Jane said in astonishment. Had she really spent almost a week on the road? Dean gave her a perturbed look, but was pulled away by the presence of the blonde bar tender. She frowned, barely hearing him order over the bustle and laughter of people.

Amongst the drunk and disorderly fun, Sam and Castiel sat awkwardly guarding a booth in one of the far corners of Diego's, scanning the scene for any sign of Jane and Dean returning with their drinks. The music was loud, but from where they were sitting, they could still speak at a normal decibel.

"So..." Castiel said, sitting uncomfortably as he watched the numerous bodies brush past their table. Sam turned his attention to the angel and stretched his broad arms along the rim of the booth.

"So." Sam said, smiling encouragingly for his celestial friend to continue.

"Did you find any monsters in that town?"

"Yeah. Actually we found out a whole nest of vamps were occupying it...or I guess, _are_."

Cas cocked his head to the side in puzzlement, "I do not understand."

"This one vamp, he captured Jane. We chased him and ended up trapped ourselves, but then Jane scared them off, killed some of them too. In the end, we chose to leave instead of gank the rest. It was too much of a risk with Jane injured so badly."

Castiel furrowed his brow, studying Sam's features. The younger Winchester had trailed off, lost in thought.

"There's still something bothering you about the ordeal." Cas observed. Sam nodded, looking back at the angel.

"It's something one of the vamps said about, well...I'm not sure exactly. But it sounded bad."

"What did it..."

Dean and Jane returned at that moment, emerging from the crowd.

"It's amazing we made it here without spilling anything!" Jane exclaimed excitedly as she set down four shot glasses filled to the brim with vodka. Dean followed suit, setting down two beers and an old-fashioned.

"We're all taking a shot, okay. That means you are too, Cas." Dean commanded, scooting into the booth next to the angel and grabbing his beer. Jane moved in next to Sam and grabbed the old-fashioned.

* * *

"Are you sure my sister would hold up in such a old, secluded 'town'?" Joshua asked impatiently from the back seat, looking around at the ramshackle houses lining the streets. The two demon goons who had insulted his father were now tasked with tracking down Jane.

"Of course. This is the only town for miles, and it's on the road she took. Just let us do our job." Yolando answered annoyedly from the driver's seat, waving Josh off and continuing his focus on the road. They were just about to enter the town square and round the gazebo.

"Where the füçk would you even start in a town like this?" Josh continued, ignoring the irked demon.

"Would you just shut up?! The only reason you're tagging along is because Tobias wants you to bring precious little Jane back alive with no...demonic wounds." Quentin said through clenched teeth. The ignorant boy had no idea how close the demon was to stabbing him in the face just out of irritation.

Josh sat back and crossed his arms, resting his enochian knife on his lap. He stared out the window, scanning the area for any place his sister may have gone, if she truly _had_ been to the small, insignificant town of Chancelorville. Passing the gazebo, Josh spotted a bakery nestled into the row of shops along the sidewalk. How quaint, he thought. Totally something Jane would...

"Wait a minute. Stop here." Josh called from the back. Yolando obeyed, parking their shiny black Passat which earned them looks from the locals.

"Damn, it's like they've never seen a car before." Quentin said, "What the hell are we stopping for, kid?" Quentin looked back, but no one was there, and the passenger door had been left open.

"Sonofabitch!" Quentin yelled, looking towards the street to see the Davidson boy crossing it, heading towards the bakery.

Yolando got out of the car without a word, slamming it closed. He was expressionless, his eyes locked on Josh, as he walked across the street. Quentin trailed behind.

The bakery door bell dinged as Josh entered the store, striding up to the counter and ignoring the line for the cashier.

"Hey man, I need to ask you a couple questions." Josh said as he flashed a fake FBI badge.

"You're an agent?" The cashier asked in disbelief, looking Josh up and down once and scoffing.

"Yes, I am." Josh answered, "I need to ask you a couple questions." He repeated, sliding his badge across the counter. The cashier picked it up and examined it, narrowing his eyes.

He looked back up at Josh, "Alright, fine. Have a seat. I'll be with you after I help these customers."

Josh huffed and turned around, spotting Yolando and Quentin already sitting down.

"So, kid, why the hell are we here? Did the little boy want some cake?" Quentin snickered. Yolando stifled a chuckle, but then turned serious again.

"Why do you want to talk to the cashier Mr. Davidson?" Yolando asked, leaning forward. His cold eyes sent goosebumps running all over Josh's skin.

He gulped, "Well..." He began, clearing his throat, "Just trust me on this. Believe it or not, I know my sister. And I certainly know her better than the two of you. So just go with me on this."

They sat in silence, Yolando nodding and turning away, people-watching as they waited. Quentin sighed and leaned back in his chair, "Nobody tells Demons anything. I thought I had established how I...felt about that with your father, but I guess no one listened. What if _I_ stopped listening huh? I mean sure, Tobias would be pissed. Hell, Crowley would be pissed, but would I care? No. Because no one _listens_." Josh listened in silence as the demon rambled on. He was right, but Josh would never admit that. His father had always taught him that demons were just evil, insignificant clouds of smoke, possessing people just because they weren't good enough to keep their own bodies. They were made to cause havoc and to serve the King of Hell. They were...Hell's lackeys. But they also had been human once, a fact that Josh never forgot. Bitter, angry, and sinful humans perhaps, but humans nonetheless, which meant they had the will to think for themselves, no matter how terrifying their superior may be.

"You're all talk and no action, Quentin." Yolando said, "Stop complaining and worry about the mission at hand. No matter what, we need to maintain this partnership with the Baltan. The more souls we collect for Crowley, the stronger Hell is. The greater a fighting chance we have. That said, I agree with you. So, if Tobias gives us anymore...disrespect than we "deserve", I say we send his son back in pieces." He added casually. He looked at Josh with a menacing grin.

"Um...right. Sure, you do that. But my father will have your heads."

"Really, kid? You're going to play the 'my daddy is stronger than you' card?" Quentin scoffed, his laughter echoing through the bakery. Just then, the cashier walked up to their table, pulling a chair over and sitting down.

"So, you have some questions for me, agent?" He asked, eyeing Quentin and Yolando.

"Uh, those are my partners. Don't mind them." Josh said, dismissing the two demons, "Anyway, I just have a couple questions to ask you, Mr..."

"Call me Max." The boy smirked as he shook Josh's hand.

* * *

 **Don't forget to like and comment on this chapter my fine fandom friends :D**

 **So what do you think about Yolando and Quentin? For some reason, while I was writing this chapter I pictured them as sort of like a evil human/demon personification of Timon and Pumba. I thought that the balance between a snarky and a stoic partner is always fun.**

 **Also, Josh is right on Jane's trail! Will they catch up to her and Team Freewill? Stay tuned for the next chapter! ;)**


	16. Chapter 14 - Doubt

**Hi Everyone!**

 **Not sure if I've shared this before or not, but for this fanfic, if I were to put in on the show's timeline as a side story, it would probably be** **around the time before Dean and the Mark of Cane.**

 **What season of Supernatural is YOUR favorite? Mine is probably the season with the Leviathan and Dick Roman, in all honesty.**

 **I feel like the writers just really wanted an excuse to make as many dick jokes as possible. Who can blame them though. They were freaking hilarious, haha!**

 **Anyway, on to Chapter 14! :)**

 **\- Sofia**

* * *

 _"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them."_  
 _~ Ernest Hemingway_

"I am never drinking with you three ever _again_." Jane groaned as she rubbed her head. The migraine that had blossomed in her cranium seemed to only increase the throbbing thump in her head with every movement as she made her way to the bunker library. They had stayed at the bar for hours, how many exactly, she did not know, nor did she really want to. It would only make her feel all the more guilty.

When they somehow got back to the bunker in one piece, they had shared a couple more beers, watched half a season of Game of Thrones, and went to bed. Jane had been offered any of the vacant beds in the bunker, and naturally she had chosen the one farthest from the bathroom. Just her luck. Maybe that was a good thing in all other circumstances, she thought through the pain, but not when you have a hangover. The aspirin would be in the bathroom, right?

Through sleepy, blurred eyes, she stumbled down the hall. She suddenly heard a door creak open to her left and heard someone else grumble profanities at their own state. It was Dean, his spiky bed hair sticking out in all directions. Jane would have thought it was cute if she hadn't been so hell-bent on finding aspirin.

"Winchester..." Jane mumbled from in front of him. He looked up, squinting his eyes from the sudden exposure of light that flooded into his room from the hallway, "... pills... hangover... now!" She whispered sharply, furrowing her brow in frustration. Even the whispering hurt her head profusely.

"Yeah yeah, just hold your horses... sonofabitch..." He groaned, padding his way down the hall with Jane close behind. He made it to the medicine cabinet first, and to his dismay, found an empty pill bottle lying on its side.

Jane squinted over Dean's shoulder at the disheartening sight, "Fûçk my life." She groaned, stomping out of the room and back into the hall, "I've never gotten one this bad before!" She grumbled, rubbing her temples with her thumbs as she made the trek back to her room.

"Or you just don't remember it. You should drink some water." Dean suggested, wincing as the closing of the cabinet creaked rather loudly and echoed through the hall. He proceeded down the hall, passing his room and leading into the kitchen. Jane glanced back at her dark, quiet room, sighing as she followed him. The elder Winchester was found reaching into the fridge, tossing her a water bottle. Not a word was spoken.

As she drank, she could feel the difference it made with her condition, even if it was minuscule. Dean gulped his down quickly, squeezing the bottle and making the plastic crack in his grip. Jane's eye twitched at the sound, resisting the urge to throw her own almost empty bottle at his head.

"Hey, Jane?" Dean asked, stepping closer and looking down at her, not breaking eye-contact. Realizing his change, she matched his posture, shoulders back and head up, looking into his eyes and trying to keep them from drooping shut.

"Yes?" She led cautiously.

"I need to ask you something..."

"Okay."

"Well," he began, his voice deep and rough from sleep, "I was wondering why you're running. I mean, it's not every day we meet someone like you..."

"Really? Because it seems to me that you have plenty of connections from the 'other world'." She joked, referring to Cas. His face remained unamused by the comment, which silenced her back to how they began.

"Who are you running from Jane? I think it's obvious that my brother and I really like you. We want to help you in any way we can. But if you can't help us, then our goal is basically rendered impossible. We really want to help but it's like you don't want any kind of assistance. Any _whatsoever_." He emphasized. It was clear he was irked by the whole ordeal, but Jane was still reluctant to give him a clear answer.

"It's...Dean...look, it's not something I really want you two to get involved in. I can't really help it if you find out, but I'm not gonna fill you in on how my life is a series of unfortunate events. It's not your job to protect me, and anyway, people only end up getting hurt." She gently pried the water bottle from Dean's hand and threw it away, not waiting for his reaction.

"Well that's not really fair, don't you think?" He said lowly.

"Fair? What's not fair? That I want you to think about your own safety instead of feel obligated to die for a stranger?..."

"But you aren't a stranger!" Dean responded, raising his voice.

"What? After a couple beers and saving my life, you think we're all buddy-buddy now?! Even if that were true, why would I want my friends to suffer on account of my own shîttÿ life choices, huh? If I wanted to help you in a dangerous situation, what would you say? Hmm?" Jane asked, standing up to him and poking him in the chest.

They were dangerously close, almost chest to chest, staring down and up at each other in menace and challenge. It was like they were building off of each other's rising energy from the tension between them. They were fuel for each other's passion for a good fight. For arguing. For proving themselves right.

"Well..." Dean paused, swallowing, "I would...let you make your own decisions and make sure you were protected as we went on with..."

"Oh come on! Don't feed me that load of cräp! You can't fool me Winchester. I bet you would throw a fit if our roles were reversed."

"How could I? We aren't 'buddy-buddy' right?" He smirked in triumph, looking down at her with fiery green eyes that shone like emeralds in a waking volcano.

"We..." It was clear he had won this time. She huffed, stepping closer and narrowing her eyes, looking for something, anything, that would give her a clue as to how to catch him off guard and knock him off his perch. His breath left a tingle down her neck as he mimicked her gesture, moving his face closer and closer to disband her composure. But neither one faltered.

She could only stand there with her hands on her hips and he could only move forward, looking down on her. Their noses were practically touching now, so close that Dean could see the details of Jane's cornea, the gold and greens and browns all mixed and smoothed together in a Van Gough masterpiece of the woman's soul.

Dean's were the same to her. Two beautiful jewels that were always polished and shining. Burning and glaring at her whilst she found herself slowly slipping into his gaze.

She breathed in slowly through her mouth as she found Dean's eyes lingering on it. Her heart beat faster, like when she panics on a hunt before she figures out the problem and slays the beast. She couldn't comprehend why she was reacting this way, but her actions ran away with the atmosphere. That electricity she didn't recognize—she had never experienced it before.

"We...?" Dean asked in a low voice as he closed the distance between them.

Hearing her pulse in her ears now, she stepped back, breathing quickly in an effort to control the pounding in her chest. Her jaw clenched as she looked him in the eye, trying to make sense of everything through her returning headache.

Dean's lips parted like he was about to speak, but then closed as he took another step forward, "Why do your eyes do that?" He asked, or more like demanded. Jane could see he was aggravated by how the moment had played out.

"What are you talking about!?" Jane yelled. She was so confused. He was one of the first people she'd spoken to outside her family in years, and here he was talking like one of them!

"Your eyes glow when you are...distressed." He said slowly, unsure how to put it. He had only witnessed the phenomenon a few times: when she saved them, when she had told them who and what she was, and only moments ago, as blush had flooded her cheeks and her tired yet vibrant eyes had grown wide, like she had heard her own heart pounding in sync with his.

She looked at him in astonishment, "My eyes don't glow! They can't! Not for you..." Her voice trailed off, a possible explanation forming in her mind that she wished she could reject.

"What do you mean 'not for _me_ '?" Dean asked, his voice softening now out of curiosity.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Jane, I just...dammit I want some answers! We just met you and we've already hunted together. Sam and I trust you. Why can't you trust us!?"

"Because I don't trust myself!" She cried, her muscles stiffening in an effort to hold back tears. Her mere presence in a roadside cafe had gotten people killed! The fact that she'd stayed in one place with the Winchesters for so long was already taking a toll on her conscience. She wanted desperately to leave. But if her family's goons could catch up to her before, they could surely find the bunker. She truly had come to like the Winchesters, and if she were to be the cause of their demise, she would never forgive herself.

"Don't do that to yourself." Dean said under his breath. He sighed and tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. "You're right...you don't know us that well yet. Not trusting us is understandable. But the fact that you don't know us also means that you have no idea what kind of shît we've already been through. And _lived_ through." There was silence again.

Jane stood there and looked down at the floor. She didn't feel worthy to look up, up towards the sky and the Angels' domain.

Heavy footfalls echoed through the hallway and into the kitchen as Sam stopped in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Hey guys, what are you doing up?" He yawned again, taking in the scene before him.

Jane and Dean made eye contact again, and after a moment passed, she was the first to turn away.

"Nothing. I was just going back to bed." She mumbled as she brushed past the taller Winchester.

"Oh. Uh, okay. Goodnight."

"Night." She responded quietly as the slam of a door sounded down the hall.

"What happened between you two?" Sam asked. Dean didn't respond, he only went to the fridge to grab another bottle of water.

"Dean."

"It's nothing Sammy." He replied, sitting down at the kitchen table with a sigh, running a hand through his messy, tousled hair.

"It didn't seem like nothing."

"Yeah, well, it was. Can we please just drop it?"

Sam eyed him with worry, but consented, "Yeah, sure. Whatever." He grabbed his own bottle and sat across from his brother. Not a word was spoken for several minutes. Sam searched his mind for something to say.

"Oh hey, I got a call from 'you'll never guess who'."

Dean raised an eyebrow as he took a swig of water.

"Who called you?"

"Crowley."

"He called _you_?"

"Yep. He usually calls you so I was surprised."

"Yeah, he usually calls me or just appears out of nowhere. That bastard..." Dean mumbled. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to 'hire' us...as hunters."

"What? Like...mercenaries or something?"

"Yeah. He wants us to track down someone. Some kind of magical, divine being thing. He said it's right up our alley."

"Well, he ain't wrong." Dean said, setting another water bottle on the table, "Why does he think we'd help him?"

"He says the fate of all natural and supernatural hang in the 'bloody balance'."

Sam repeated what Crowley had told him earlier. He had called sounding distressed or angry, Sam couldn't tell. But he knew something was up. Crowley and the Winchesters were not on the _best_ of terms by any means, but they had ended up helping each other out (somehow) in the past. It was a bittersweet relationship that kept them guessing what Crowley would do next to spite them.

"That doesn't sound good." Dean replied. "But it's not like we're 'buddy-buddy' or anything." He mimicked in a whiny voice, anger now bubbling up from his memories of the argument with Jane. Sam could tell it had something to do with her, but his brother wouldn't tell him unless he wanted to. He was just _that_ stubborn sometimes.

"Well, let's deal with this in the morning. I'm not really in the mood to figure out why Crowley wants our help. He has a whole army of demons anyway. Why would he need us?"

"That's certainly disconcerting."

"Yeah, no shït..." Dean chuckled lightly, taking a swig of water and standing up. He walked over to the doorway, and before crossing, he turned his head back to his brother.

"We can ask him why his demons are working with the Baltan too."

Sam nodded, watching his brother walk back to his room.


	17. Chapter 15 - Breakfast

_"Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much."_  
 _~ Helen Keller_

"Morning guys."

Sam greeted Jane and Dean as they stumbled groggily into the bunker library. It was clear they were trying to avoid one another as they moved their way around the table. Sam sighed, but brushed it off as he ate his breakfast and scrolled on his computer simultaneously.

"Morning Sammy."

"Good morning Sam."

They both sat down quietly, Jane next to Sam and Dean across from them.

Sam glanced up from his computer, setting his fork down. He looked over at Jane, "I made waffles. And we've got bacon and fruit and..."

"I'm not really hungry right now Sam. But thank you."

"You made bacon?" Dean perked up, pushing away from the table and walking over to the kitchen.

When he came back he immediately dug in to his plate, sending his compliments to the chef with a grin of satisfaction.

Jane eyed it with a gulp. Her stomach growled under her crossed arms, a frown forming on her lips. Dean was on his third piece when she relented.

"Ugh, sonofabitch." She grumbled as she pushed out from the table. Dean chuckled and Sam smiled knowingly.

Sam went back to his laptop as Jane sat back down, her plate loaded with waffles, bacon, and syrup. She begrudgingly took a bite and tried to contain her moans at the deliciousness.

"Do you usually make love to your breakfast?" Dean asked, his own mouth full as he teased her. She was about to retort with what Dean anticipated to be a profanity, but Sam cut in before any argument arose.

"Jane," Sam began, setting his phone on the table, "we got a call from a...man named Crowley. Heard of him?" She shook her head in response, her eyes wandering nowhere in particular as she scoured her mind for such a strange name. "Well, he plays a very important role in...Hell." At the mention of the black souls' domain, her eyes fixed on the younger Winchester, fiery and wild with sudden rage. She had developed an extreme hatred for demons, as you can imagine, and had no intention of letting them ruin her breakfast.

She shook her head as she swallowed, "Why the hell would I care about some _thing_ like that?" She questioned, her voice menacing. Dean got the chills just looking at her. That ominous flash of gold glazed momentarily over her hazel eyes, gone in a moment as if it had never existed in the first place. A mere trick of the light. He blinked, pushing various questions—which had begun to cloud his thoughts again—to the back of his mind.

"Crowley isn't like the other demons, he's...Dean?"

Dean looked over at his brother in a daze, "Huh?"

"Can you help me out here?" Sam encouraged. Dean looked at Jane again, who raised an eyebrow.

"You okay?" Jane asked carefully.

"Yeah I'm fine. What were you talking about?"

"Crowley." Sam said.

"Oh. Yeah, Jane, Crowley is not a problem. I mean, he's a bit...untrustworthy, but..."

"But we've saved his åss before. If he's literally asking us for help..."

"It's either a trap or it's genuine. There's no in between." Dean finished nonchalantly.

"Well, you can do what you want, but I'm not taking the chance." Jane growled.

"Now wait a minute..." Dean started, raising his voice.

"Fine," Sam answered, giving his brother a harsh glare to tell him to shut up, "if you won't help us with him then that's fine. But there is something else you _can_ help us with."

"There is?" Dean asked from across the table.

"Yeah." Sam said as he fiddled with his laptop. He pulled up a newspaper article from a local town. _Chancellorville Gazette_ was scribed at the top in big, cursive, red letters.

Sam turned to Jane, "When we went to Chancellorville, we weren't expecting to run into...you. We were there on a job, investigating multiple deaths that have been happening recently in the town. But, since we 'ran into' you, we never actually finished the job."

"Which has never happened before. Damn, Dad would be pissed." Dean chuckled emptily, taking a swig of orange juice.

"So you want to go back and take care of that nest of vamps again." Jane said.

"Yeah basically. Unless there's also something _else_ going on." Sam confirmed.

"Alright. Then let's hit the road." Jane said, taking one more bite of her breakfast and taking her plate to the kitchen.

* * *

Jane had allowed herself to doze off in the back of the Impala as they drove to the mysterious town of Chancellorville...yet again. She sat up, rubbing her eyes as she peered out the side window. Barely any people were walking outside, there were no children sitting among the primer-stripped beams of the decrepit gazebo like before, and an opaque plastic sheet covered the newly broken front window of the bakery.

"What the hell happened here?" Jane muttered under her breath as she watched the sights through the back window shrink and blur as they drove further away.

"It's even crappier than when we left it." Dean scoffed.

The Impala drove on, down the bumpy streets into the part of town shadowed by dense woods. Jane sat up and moved to the middle of the leather bench, staring through the windshield between the two brothers.

"Where are we going?"

"Well," Sam said, "there isn't exactly a Holiday Inn around here." The Impala turned down a dark drive.

"No. No no no no no don't tell me that we're..."

"There isn't anywhere else we can go Jane. Sorry." Sam replied.

Dean pulled the car into the gravel lot in front of the ancient inn they had all stayed in just days ago (although one could barely call it a stay). The inn still gave off that creepy vibe you could only find in horror films. Jane hadn't desired to stay there in the first place, but as Sam pointed out, there was nowhere else to go.

"Think they'll remember us?" Jane joked as the three of them cautiously made their way up the infamous mossy steps.

"Only one way to find out." Dean said as they entered, walking up to the front desk again. The same elder manager who had glared at them suspiciously before did not fail to disappoint.

"I see you found her." He remarked as Dean strode up to the counter.

"Oh, yeah. We had a bit of a misunderstanding but," Dean said, glancing back at Jane, "everything's fine now."

The manager looked past Dean at a nervously grinning Jane, narrowing his eyes.

"Alright. Well, I assume you are here to check back into your rooms?" The three hunters nodded.

"Well, due to the fact that you did not actually check _out_ , you are still paying the room fee. Do you still have your keys?" Dean looked at Sam expectantly. Sam looked back with slight panic in his eyes as he patted his jacket pockets.

"Um..."

"They'll be staying in my room." Jane said as she handed her key to the desk manager for inspection.

"You wish to transfer two more guests into a single-bed room?"

Sam's eyes widened and Dean raised a hand in protest, but Jane shoved the Winchesters out of the way and leaned over the counter.

"Between you and me..." She whispered rather pointedly, "the problem between me and them is completely gone. Now, I know that they have their key, but they really rather stay with me. You know, me being a flight risk and all." She winked, grabbing the key from the manager, who cleared his throat.

"And we'll make sure to pay in full for the previous rent if you could just check them out of their room right now...and maybe an extra key to mine?"

The elder man raised an eyebrow and just stared at her, dumbfounded. He had harbored concern for her before, but now, all he worried about were the two men who had to stay with her.

"As...as you wish." He said, typing on a hidden keyboard and scribbling in a log book. He tossed Sam the key, saying "Don't lose this one please. They are very expensive and I will not hesitate to charge you."

"We hear you loud and clear. Thank you." Sam said. The Winchesters followed Jane up the stairs back to her room, completely confused and curious about what Jane had said (and or implied) to the manager.

Closing the door, Jane flung herself on the bed and groaned, covering her face with a pillow as the boys set their bags down.

"Hey Jane, your sink is still covered in blood." Dean remarked, flicking off the bathroom light, "Care to explain?"

"One thing at a time Winchester." She grumbled as she threw the pillow behind her.

"So let's get down to business." She said, sitting up. She plopped her hands in her lap as she waited expectantly.

"Alright, well there was a murder a few days ago." Sam explained. "The victim was found naked in the woods, dead and practically torn to pieces. Now, we thought it might be a werewolf or vampire, the usual suspects, but because the clothes were deliberately taken..."

"You think it might be a shape shifter." Jane finished.

"Yeah. Exactly." Sam smiled, impressed.

"Okay." Jane sighed, running her hands through her hair smoothly as she looked between the two brothers.

"So," she said, "should we maybe go to the police station, see what they've got? Maybe visit where the body was found?"

"Sounds like a plan." Dean said, "and let's also keep an eye out for that teenage Cullen wannabe."

"Oh trust me, the minute I see him, I'll gank him before he can take a breath." Jane said.

"That's the spirit." Dean said proudly. They were more alike than he'd imagined.

"Okay. Let's go tomorrow, then." Sam said. They all looked at each other hesitantly.

"I call the bed!" Jane said, throwing her hands in the air.

* * *

The next morning, Jane and the Winchesters donned their federal suits and drove into town, parking in front of the very small Sheriff's office about a block from the town center.

As Sam and Dean checked their guns and badges one last time, Jane stepped out of the car with a yawn. She smoothed her pencil skirt as she looked around. The building reminded her of a cube, with textured tan paint and a flat roof. A single flag pole flying the Stars and Stripes stuck up from a lawn on the left side. Only a few squad cars were in a small gravel lot on the right, an officer walking out the front door with what seemed like an empty box for donuts. As stations went, Jane wasn't that impressed. But as she'd already experienced first-hand, there was a lot more to town of Chancellorville than meets the eye.

Barely any cops were in the building. There probably weren't that many to begin with, Jane figured. The three hunters strode up to the front desk, taking out their badges simultaneously.

The man behind the desk raised an annoyed eyebrow at them as he glanced between the fake FBI badges.

Agents Osbourne, Butler, and..." Dean introduced, glancing back at Jane.

"Agent Spencer." Jane said, lightly shoving the brothers aside as she shook hands with the man. He bemusedly took it, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Agents, eh?" What brings you to our town?"

"We were informed of the death of a Mr. Addams. We were sent here to..."

"Addams? Yeah, that happened a few days ago. It was ruled an animal attack."

"May we speak to the sheriff?" Sam chimed in, stepping forward next to Jane.

The man looked back behind him at the center of the office, scattered cubicles and officers answering phones. He scratched his chin, "I'm sorry, why would the FBI be interested in an animal attack?"

"Well, we don't give the orders. We're just here for a routine follow-up on the investigation. Our boss down at headquarters is a stickler for thoroughness, ain't that right agents?" Dean said, forcing a chuckle and lightly punching Sam on the arm.

Jane awkwardly laughed along as she scanned the room. A door opened at the back, and a slightly heavyset man with a big gold star on his front walked out.

"There's the chief." Jane said before she walked over without warning.

"Wait, Jane..." Sam said.

"Agent Spencer! You can't just..." The man at the desk called out. Dean shook his head as he followed her.

"Excuse me, Sheriff, sir," Jane said as she flashed her badge, "Agent Spencer, FBI. These are my partners, agents Osbourne and Butler. We have a few questions we'd like to ask you about the recent deaths in your town."

The sheriff looked straight ahead between Jane and Dean, blinking in surprise. Jane had heels on, Dean noticed, so she was practically as tall as him, and way taller than this police Sheriff. It was fiercely intimidating to say the least.

"Um...y-y-yeah sure...right this way. We can...talk in my office." The sheriff sputtered.

Dean and Jane followed the sheriff as he shuffled off, Jane glancing back at Dean with a smirk of triumph.

Sam watched from the front desk as the door shut behind them, shaking his head in disbelief as he tried to hide a smile. He scoffed as he turned back to the officer at the front desk who had already gone back to his paperwork.

Sam cleared his throat, gaining his attention once more.

"Are you always this irksome at your headquarters?" The man grumbled as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips.

Sam's jaw tightened as he waited for the cup to be set back on the desk.

"I'd like access to the coroner's reports. And any other evidence collected."

"Well that might take a while." The guy replied.

"Okay. Thank you." Sam managed to say, trying to stay professional. He sighed, lessening the tention in his jaw. He leaned against the counter, looking back at the sheriff's door. Hopefully Jane and Dean were making more progress with the case than he was.


	18. Chapter 16 - Persistance

_"Everybody's got a different way of telling a story—and has different stories to tell."_  
 _~ Keith Richards_

"Max said she was here." Josh complained, annoyed by Yolando's silent pacing around the hotel room. "You keep that up and you'll wear a path into the carpet, and then I'll have to explain to my father why I'm wasting all this money to help fix a smelly old floor in this shîtty old..."

"Would you please just shut up and stop complaining? Brat." Quentin huffed. He was seated at the table, drumming his finger tips on the dark wood. "You think we _like_ being stuck here with you?"

"Please enlighten me. Why did we trust this Max person again?" Yolando asked in his deep tone, still pacing.

"He told us Jane had come in to the bakery, bought a pie, and left. That was only a day ago. If she's buying food, she'd have to stay the night somewhere right? This, unfortunately, is the only place in town so..."

"So, who's to say she didn't just hit the road?" Quentin snapped. They had been sitting in their room for hours now, more than they'd anticipated. The demon and his partner had begun having doubts when they spotted no red Cadillac in the parking lot. But now, even though it was barely past noon, they couldn't stand the idea of patience. They were demons. They were hired for the hunt, expecting a show.

"Well, maybe he didn't tell us everything."

"Maybe there wasn't that much to tell. Come on, kid, look at the facts," Quentin raised his arms and gestured to the emptiness of their room as if he were addressing a crowd. He stood up, "her car isn't here. That's _one_ flag that ain't red. This Max guy is suspicious..."

"I didn't trust him from the start." Yolando added, stopping only for a second until he began pacing back and forth again.

"...right. Me neither. If we _were_ to question him again, who's to say he won't lie this time! Hmm? Now answer me this, you little Angel wannabe. If some scary looking strangers and a kid his age flash a couple badges at me, walking into the place I work at, in front of all these customers I've just served and probably know personally, why would I make a scene? Why would I tell the truth if I don't trust the people I'm talking to? Why would I give away info that is obviously super important to _someone,_ instead of just keeping it to myself, maybe going out to look for the prize myself to see if it's really worth the 'FBI's' time? You really think that a teenybopper working as a cashier would just rely on skimming the register? Because you made such a big deal about finding your precious sister, he's probably out there right now with her to see why she's causing so much fuss!"

Josh's eyes widened, brimming with clarity as the truth set in. Again, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, the bastard demon was right. He'd miscalculated, and now, his father might sooner have his head mounted on a pike before he could find Max; before he could find Jane.

Josh suddenly felt angry. Angry at himself, angry at that lying cashier, angry at the fact that he was stuck with know-it-all demons, and especially angry at Jane for making his life a living Hell. He looked down at his gun resting in his lap, picking it up and weighing it in his hands. A dark smile formed on his lips.

"Then we'll just have to pay that boy another visit."

Quentin sat on the bed, loading his gun and watching this change in Josh, his eyebrow raised bemusedly. Yolando stopped his pacing and just stared at Josh in thought before grabbing his coat, showing no hesitation at the implied command.

They piled into the Passat and drove into town, parking right in front of the bakery. Without a word, Josh got out the back and pulled out his gun. He strode into the building with a jingle of the bell on the door. He could make out the top of Max's brunette hair among the sea of customers in line. He was ringing people up and scrambling to the back, putting pies and cupcakes into the display case before returning to the register.

Josh smiled at a passing customer like he'd just woken up on the right side of the bed that morning. The customer smiled surprisedly back as she walked out. He started whistling as the demons came in after him. Once the door closed he raised his gun nonchalantly over his head and fired, the sound making the whole room quiet without a single breath to break the silence. The sound had been so surprising that the entire crowd had yelped and ducked down, leaving a clear view of Max behind the counter, wide eyed in disbelief.

"We are hear to speak to him. Everyone else OUT!" Josh yelled, his voice booming with authority. Yolando and Quentin moved to the side to let people leave, watching them all scurry carefully and quickly around Josh and avoiding eye contact with all three of them. He looked back at his henchmen, "Do whatever it takes after this to keep the poluce away from here." Yolando nodded and took out his phone to make a call.

"What the hell do you want _agent_?" Max asked through gritted teeth.

"The truth, of course." Josh said.

"I thought we already went through that."

"Yeah?" Josh paused, sucking air through his teeth as he pretended to think back, "No, I don't think so. See, you may have told us bits," he gestured to the right with his gun, "and pieces," he gestured to the left, "but not the whole story." He said, walking forward and pointing the gun at Max's head.

"What the füçk, man!?" Max said hurriedly, finally feeling the threat of Josh's actions.

"Mr. Davidson, what are you doing?" Yolando asked from the back of the room.

"Go check if there are any more employees in the back. It seems that you're pretty short of staff right now Max. Now why is that?" Josh's voice became more high-pitched, like he was speaking to a child.

Quentin walked swiftly behind the counter and into the back room, flicking on the lights and immediately scoffing at the sight. Josh gawked at the putrid smell that flooded into the room.

"What the hell _is_ that!?" Josh asked, not moving his gun from Max. Yolando went to inspect the room then, taking one look over Quentin's shoulder before turning around and looking at Josh, eyeing Max with disapproval.

"It's a corpse."

"More than that," Quentin called from the back room, "it's a drained corpse. A couple days old at least too. I think this bastard is a vampire, boss."

"You're a bloodsucker?" Josh asked Max in surprise. He hadn't had the privilege of hunting many vamps. Like Jane, he had mainly been kept behind their home's protective walls. But now that he was standing in front of one that he had staring down the barrel of his gun, he wasn't as impressed as he'd imagined he'd be.

Max smirked, accepting his capture, "Alright fine, you got me. What are you, more hunters?" Max said, almost tiredly this time.

"Oh please, don't insult me." Josh said.

Quentin rolled his eyes. But then, his brows furrowed, "Wait a minute," he said, catching their attention, "what do you mean 'more hunters'. Were there some here recently?"

Max sighed, "Well yeah. I've seen my fair share. But not many pass through so two sets in one week, that's pretty notable around here. Look, if you're going to kill me then fine, but then you'll never know what'll happen to your precious girl."

Josh looked back from Quentin to Max, unknowingly lowering his gun, "These hunters...they were with Jane?"

"With? Not sure. But she did save their butts before I could give them what they deserved. What all hunters deserve." Max said, looking straight at Josh with menace before he leaped over the counter, grabbing Josh by the shoulders and flinging him back, making him slam through the glass window. Shards of frosted glass rained down onto the sidewalk outside, and all over Josh's face and coat.

Josh touched his cheek. It stung, and a red stain marked his finger tips. He growled as he struggled to stand, finding the wind knocked out of him. Yolando sprinted out the front door and down a side alley as Quentin went to help Josh up, brushing him off briskly before pulling him to the car.

"You. Stay here. We'll follow him. If you end up looking any worse, who knows what your father will think. I will not let your recklessness cost me or my partner our lives, you got that?" The demon scolded. He slammed the car door shut.

"AND DON'T GET BLOOD ON THE SEATS!" Quentin warned, yelling through the window before he chased after Yolando.

Josh rested his head back on the seat, his ears ringing. He thought they were so close to finding her. It wasn't just a matter of disobedience. It was a matter of family, duty, obligation. And to the Baltan, those things were regarded with extreme devotion. Jane may have understood what she belonged to, but she certainly hadn't understood what she'd left.

* * *

"So what can I do you for, agents?" The sheriff asked, steadying himself as he lowered into the chair behind his desk. He straightened a picture frame facing him and took out a piece of chewing gum from a desk drawer.

His chewing filled the silence for a minute as Jane and Dean sat opposite him. The sheriff sighed, laying back in his chair, his plump hands clasped over his belly. Dean glanced over at Jane, waiting for her to take the lead. She took a deep breath, letting her shoulders relax before scooting to the edge of her seat.

"We're here to follow up on a recent case involving the death of one Samuel Addams..."

"Oh, well I'm sorry Ms..."

"Agent Spencer." Jane said through clenched teeth, irritated by the sudden interruption.

"Ms. Spencer, I apologize, but it seems like you and your partners are wasting your time. That death was ruled an unfortunate accident. An animal attack. Poor Mr. Addams was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Well then if it was an animal attack then you wouldn't mind if we took a look at the corpse?"

"I'm sorry Ms..."

"Agent. Spencer." Jane said steadily, trying to keep her cool. Dean noticed her fists tightening in her lap.

"We just want to do a follow-up report and ask you a couple questions. We don't give the orders, we're just here to do our job." Dean interjected, "I mean, what's the harm in viewing the body? It's not like he's going to get up and walk out any time soon." Dean laughed lightly, looking over at Jane. She just raised an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for him to finish. Dean looked back to the sheriff, finding the same expression. He cleared his throat, "Yes, well, with all due respect Sheriff, we need to see the body, and if you do not allow us to yourself..."

"Then we will have no choice but to issue a warrant." Jane chimed in, smirking at the Sheriff in challenge, "And trust me, that's not something you want to deal with."

The sheriff eyed her with resentment, but it immediately shifted to fear. Dean knew they had him.

"Fine. I'll have someone take you down to the morgue and give you access to the report."

"And, we'd like access to the evidence obtained at the crime scene and any witness reports." Jane said.

"Fine." The sheriff said, waving a hand at them.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions." Dean said,

"Alright, Agent..."

"Osbourne," Dean said. The sheriff nodded for him to continue.

"Did you know the victim?"

"Samuel? Yes, he has a cousin that worked in this department for a couple years before getting transferred. He was a good kid. Wanted to get into police work someday too. He'd dropped out of college in his third year. I guess he just couldn't take the pressure anymore. As much as his family and neighbors respected him, he was a partier."

"Do you have any idea why he might've been wandering around the woods that night?"

"Well, why else do kids wander around in the woods? They're always going out there to drink and smoke and canoodle. It really just ends up as a mess to clean up, but it's where all them hang out, you know? For... _privacy_." The sheriff said, chuckling. Dean joined him until Jane cleared her throat, a reminder to stay on topic.

"Sheriff," Jane said, "Do you have a map we could borrow of the surrounding area?"

He nodded, shifting back in his seat and pulling a drawer open. The map rustled and snapped as he laid it out before them. There were areas around the perimeter of the town circled. Jane stood, hovering over the map for a better look. Dean followed suit.

"These circled areas are prior attacks?"

"That's another thing you should know," the sheriff said, grunting as he stood up, "Addams's case was a unique one, compared to other recent attacks in the area."

Jane turned to Dean, "And that's why there was no mention of those others in the papers."

"What was so unique about it?" Dean asked.

"Well, it's the weirdest damn thing. This is the first time in my career that I've found a body in nothing but his birthday suit."

* * *

Sam tapped his fingers on the front desk impatiently. He looked around the station, his eyes darting this way and that around the room as he looked for something to amuse him. He couldn't possibly pass the time in silence with the rude cop behind the desk any longer.

He glanced down at the officer and then back at the door to the Sheriff's office. His lips pressed into a thin line and he rolled his eyes.

His gaze landed back on the cop and he sighed. _Might as well ask_ , he thought.

"So..." He began. The officer looked up at him, obviously annoyed.

"What?" He replied curtly.

"The town...have you ever had reports of strange weather or fluctuating temperatures in certain rooms or maybe lights flickering on and off, the smell of sulfur possibly?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"A...routine one."

The officer raised an eyebrow, "Right." He said in disbelief. Sam nodded a 'thanks anyway' and turned back towards the Sheriff's door, suspecting the cop thought he was crazy.

"Hurry up guys." Sam muttered under his breath.

Finally, after another agonizing ten minutes, the three of them emerged: Jane, Dean, and the Sheriff. Dean shook his hand as they walked towards Sam. He noticed Jane seemed a bit exasperated.

The sheriff retreated back into his office and the three hunters walked out of the building and into the parking lot.

Sam glanced down at Jane as they neared the Impala.

"Is everything alright?" Sam asked with a calm smile. Jane returned it with a glare, but immediately softened. She looked down at her feet and huffed. Her hands rested on her hips.

"Yes Sam," she said, sounding resolved, "everything is fine. The sheriff is a misogynist, but otherwise, everything is great." She looked up at him, a grin spreading across her face suddenly. "Wait until you hear what Dean and I got from him."

They slid into the Impala and we're off again with a delectable roar of the engine.

"So you found out more on the case?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, keeping his eyes on the road, "Yeah, it turns out Addams' death isn't something new in town, but his death is unique which is why it's being investigated apart from the others."

"Which is stupid if you ask me." Jane quipped, leaning over the front seat between the Winchesters.

"What was so unique about him?"

"It was the fact he was nude."

"And unless he's a closet exhibitionist, I think a shifter is at the top of the list for this one."

"Well we should go see the crime scene for ourselves." Jane said, pulling her phone from her pocket. She'd taken a picture of the Sheriff's map. "Make the next left."

"What would a shifter want with such a small town. Wouldn't that make it more noticeable if it turned into one of the locals around here?" Sam mused. He studied the picture on Jane's phone intently as they drove along.

"He's got a point Dean." Jane said.

"Yeah well we won't know until we do some more research, right Sammy?"

"You mean until _I_ do some more research?" Sam said, giving his brother his signature bitch face.

"Oh come on, I help. And anyway, now we have Jane with us! Three people will make work go faster."

Jane and Sam exchanged a look of utter annoyance and laughed. Dean grumbled along.

It was growing darker as they drove deeper into the forest, but the Impala's headlights cut through the darkness with sharp intensity.

"Make the next left and we should be at the head of the party trail."

"Too bad I forgot the keg." Dean said under his breath as he pulled in to the gravel clearing.

Jane chuckled, "Let's save the keg for when we capture this sonofabitch."

Dean smiled as he stepped out of the car.

"Couldn't have said it better myself."


	19. Chapter 17 - Retaliation

**Hello everyone! Lo and behold the newest installment of "She Drove a Cadillac". You know when it's 2 am and you suddenly just come up with an idea so important or so good that you just have to write it down? That's basically what this chapter is. I had some free time today, so I looked at these notes I typed up in the middle of the night and typed like crazy to the point that my wrists hurt, but I felt really guilty for dragging along this part of the story so I just thought fuck it let's finish this. SOOOOOO that brings me to chapter seventeen. We're diving into the bigger story here, finally! Enjoy :-] Carry On My Wayward brothas and sistas ;)**

 **Also, Please make my day and comment and vote on this chapter! I welcome comments and feedback! Thanks ;D**

 **\- Sofia**

* * *

 _"When we take revenge against another, we lose some of our innocence."_

 _~ Patrice Redd Vecchione, Revenge and Forgiveness_

* * *

"I can't believe we found _nothing_." Jane huffed defeatedly, laying down on the bed.

"We didn't find _nothing ._ There were some shallow prints leading away from where the body was found." Sam pointed out.

"Yeah...animal prints." Jane said, "We need to have a look at that body ASAP."

"We actually might not need to." Sam said, sitting down on the bed with his computer on his lap. Jane sat up and looked at the screen.

"Where'd you get those?" Jane asked as she stared at pictures of Sam Addams' autopsy.

"You pick up a few things when you're a hunter. Also these small towns have pretty outdated security systems." Sam said with a sly smile. Jane chuckled and leaned closer, scanning the photos with extreme concentration.

"That must be some serious porn for you to be bug-eying at Sammy's laptop, Jane." Dean said as he walked through the door, a bag of food in one hand and a small case of beer in the other. Jane rolled her eyes and stood, taking the food from him.

"Ha ha you are just soooo clever Dean!" Jane laughed sarcastically, trying to make her voice as pitchedly annoying as possible. The equivalence to the frequency of a teenage girl was quite horrific, and Sam's ears strained at the sound. She set the food on the small desk table and returnd to Sam's side, sipping one of the beers. Dean joined them, standing at the foot of the bed, hovering over his brother's shoulder.

"Hold up a minute." Dean said, his head dipping closer to the photos. Sam stopped scrolling and zoomed in. It was a picture of the victim's right side profile, his skin a palish blue, eyes closed, expressionless. Dean traced the neck with his finger.

"Wow..." Jane said, scooting closer. Sam did too. They were only inches away from each other, almost cheek to cheek as they studied the main artery of the man's neck, that not only looked like it had been bitten, but more like torn out, a small chunk of gaping red among the ivory thinness of the skin.

You could clearly tell where two sharp fangs had raked down on the skin. Gashes like knives that clamped down, eventually working in unison to deliver the final blow.

"Animal prints leading from the scene, a giant gash to the aorta, no wonder they thought it was an animal attack." Jane muttered, her voice softened mere decibels above a whisper by her concentration.

"Yeah, but that isn't the work of Cujo." Dean remarked, turning his attention to the food.

"Whatever they thought this was, it was clearly Max and the blood-sucking douche bag brigade" Jane said with disgust, standing and turning away from the photo. She finished off her beer and claimed the shower. Dean glanced in her direction as she shut the door. Sam noticed but said nothing, closing his laptop and getting up.

"So..." Sam said, stretching his arms above his head and glancing at the food, "Jane's going to probably want to be the one to kill Max."

"I figured that." Dean scoffed, a smile tugging at his lips.

Sam's phone suddenly rang in his pocket.

"It's the police department." Sam said.

* * *

"There's been another death." The sheriff said blatantly, yawning as he lifted the caution tape.

They had outlined a small patch of grass on the outskirts of the "party area" of the woods. Blood was splattered across the pure green reeds, little daisies caked in red. A big white sheet covered the body—one of the officers had informed them it had been a woman in her late thirties who was never known to venture into the area - and the only light was the fading sun streaking through the trees and the circulating blue and red flourescence of police cars.

"I'm going to kill him." Jane said under her breath. Her hair was still wet from the shower, and it clung to her face when the wind blew, rustling the white sheet.

That gold glimmer in her eyes, her thoughts manifesting into passion, fluttered into her corneas. Forget a moment, that blink before it disappeared. This time, her eye became it, a deep brownish gold like Pyrite, but she was no fool.

Dean looked over at her, still staring at the white sheet. A stain of blood soaked heavily through the thin material. He felt a chill in the air, a sort of magnetism that made him anxious and yet pulled him towards Jane. There was a light breeze that slid through the forest, swaying the trees and making them hiss.

Jane closed her eyes and listened, then she caught another sound, a disturbance in the underbrush, mere _feet_ away from the crime scene. Her eyes opened abruptly, her body already pointed in the direction, but instead, she jerked into Dean's chest.

His lips parted as his green eyes looked down into hers, now golden pools lit aflame.

She gestured her head towards darkening forrest, "I heard something in the bushes over there. Too big to be a squirrel or rabbit or..."

"Dean, Jane," Sam interrupted, walking over to them, "It's the same type of bite...and the same kind of circumstance regarding the victim's, uh, appearance."

"Of course it is. We should head to the bakery." Dean said, walking back to the Impala.

"But what about..." Jane called after him with an edge in her voice.

"There's no time to chase after it Jane. It's probably long gone by now." Dean answered over his shoulder.

They'd parked farther done from the noise of the crime scene. As the hums of insects filled the settling night, Jane heard something behind them, relieved it wasn't her imagination because Sam heard it too, and they turned around in unison.

"Dean!" Sam whispered behind him. Dean stopped in his tracks, not turning around. His hand coasted inside his jacket, fingers grazing the butt of his gun.

Jane took a cautious step forward, squinting in the darkness. From out of the bushes in front of them, feet away, a dark shape, about the size of a large dog, emerged with striking fluidity, its limbs bent and ready to torpedo itself out of sight. Its red eyes pierced the darkness. In its mouth was a large piece of cloth. Jane stepped closer. A dress. The creature growled, and the air around it seemed to vibrate.

"It's a cat." Jane said to Sam.

"That's no ordinary cat."

Suddenly, a shot rang out, whizzing past Jane and Sam and hitting the cat's hind limb. It cried out and dropped the dress, slinking away quickly into the woods. Jane's body lurched after it, but Sam caught her by the arm.

"What are you doing?!" Jane said angrily. Dean started the Impala, and the headlights illuminated her hate-filled eyes. Sam didn't budge.

"That way through the trees leads directly to the main road." Sam said. Jane quickly understood. They ran to the car.

Once on the road, they sped through the night. A pinch of red sprinkled in the darkness flashed in the headlights.

"Stop!"

The Impala skidded to a stop and Jane jumped from the car, sprinting back up the highway.

"Jane!" Sam called after her, but she disappeared into the black.

* * *

"I can't believe I lost it!" Jane yelled in the parking lot of the inn.

"Jane just calm down!" Dean yelled back. She quieted, but her glare continued to scream her emotions.

"What the hell _was_ that?" Sam interjected.

"I...I think I might know." Jane said. "Come on, let's go inside."

They hurdled those godforsaken mossy steps and went into the foyer. The desk was vacant, but murmurs of delight sivved through the cracked door of a side room behind the desk. Jane strode on up and tapped the silver bell on the counter. A grinning consierge walked out of the room, the door now extremely ajar, revealing a woman inside. His grin vanished immediately at the sight of Jane and the Winchesters.

He pulled at the hem of his shirt. Sam raised an eyebrow. He...he could of sworn he'd seen that shirt somewhere before.

"How may I help you?"

Jane started telling him that she had cut her finger and wished to clean up the bathroom with whatever they had.

"We are obliged to clean the rooms _for_ you, Madam."

"Yes, I know. But you see..."

Dean casually looked past them and into the room the man had emerged from. A small fireplace was lit with embers, and the sound of shuffling footsteps thumped softly as the woman appeared. She was elderly, most likely in her late 70s. She smiled giddily to herself and gave her dress a twirl. He eyed her bemusedly. _How can_ this guy _make a woman_ that _happy?_ he thought. He hadn't been listening to Jane's poor attempt at haggling her way to possessing cleaning chemicals, but it must have sufficed because the manager sighed in defeat.

"One moment." He said, walking back into the room and closing the door.

Jane leaned sideways on the counter, tapping her fingers on the cold wood. Dean stood there with a faraway look in his eyes.

She cocked her head to the side, trying to catch his stare burning a hole in the floor boards, "Everything alright?"

"It doesn't feel it."

The door opened more abruptly now, and the elderly woman shuffled out, carrying rags and cleaning products in what looked like a shower caddy. Jane's eyes widened; they were as big as baseballs at the sight of her. Her jaw clenched and she forced a tight smile. The woman nodded with an annoyed expression, perhaps feeling sour about them interrupting her evening.

As Jane hurried up the stairs, Winchesters in tow, the boys exchanged a look of concern and confusion.

"Jane, slow down." Dean urged, but she stumbled down the hall quickly and forced open her door, dropping her cargo carelessly onto the bathroom floor and closing the door swiftly behind them.

"Jane what the hell is going on?" Dean asked more forcefully.

She raised her hand, shaking her finger at them. An unexplained cheerfulness suddenly washed over her, and she danced in place saying three words over and over:

"I KNEW IT!" She shouted shamelessly. She slapped her knee and laughed. The Winchesters thought she'd truly lost it.

Sam raised his hands and patted at the air in an effort to tone down her excitement, "You knew? You knew what?"

"I know who's stealing the clothes." She said, the excitement building as she recognized she'd figured it out before them.

"Yeah. We know...It's Max." Dean said slowly, drawing the words along because of how clear it all seemed.

"No. No it is not!" Jane said with a smirk, "The vamps aren't stealing the clothes. The old man and his wife downstairs are. I recognized her dress."

Sam remembered now. He'd seen that shirt the man was wearing in a family picture in the reference folder of Sam Addams' case file. And now, as he thought back, the dress did look familiar. But the most recent time he'd seen a dress was in the mouth of a mysterious cat...

"It's a Cat Sithe." Jane said grandiousely. She looked at them with pride, waiting for them to answer.

"A...a what?" Dean said.

"A Cat Sithe? Jane they don't steal clothes. They steal human souls. And they're lore originates from Scotland." Sam said.

"So?"

" _So_ , the victims were already dead. And Cat Sithes can only change 8 times before they become cats forever. Why would they waste changing to steal some clothes?"

Jane's lips threatened to turn up into a sneer, but she huffed and turned away, walking towards the door in long strides.

"We'll just have to ask them then. Because whatever they are, that doesn't change the fact that they have something that doesn't belong to them."

Dean looked at Sam with indignation, and he grumbled as he followed her out the door. Sam grabbed his gun and followed shortly after. When he got downstairs, Jane had already burst into the room, a resentful couple now sitting on the floor by the fire, hugging each other and glaring down the barrel of her gun.

"Who are you? What do you want with us?" The woman demanded, squeezing her husband.

"Answers." Jane demanded, "I know what you two are, and I must say, I'm more of a dog person myself so don't even try to lie because I won't accept anything but the absolute truth. Otherwise, you'll never leave this room alive."

"Jane..." Sam said from the doorway in warning, wishing she would tone it down. He'd seen what she was capable of; shooting a gun was a walk in the park in comparison.

Dean had his gun out, but not raised. It just hung limply in his hand, resting on his side. He watched Jane closely, having the same thoughts as Sam.

"The two of you are Cat Sithes. You've been stealing the clothes of the recent victims being attacked in the woods. Do you deny it?" Her questions came out so rigidly and formal, like a judge delivering a verdict, high up on a pulpit commanding an entire courtroom. She held the fates of the monsters in question in the palm of her hand.

The man hung his head, unable to meet Jane's eyes. His wife looked at him in her arms, eyes watery, but no tears.

"No." He said, looking up. His true scottish accent had decided to come forward, with no use to hide anymore, "We don't deny it. You three are hunters, aren't you."

Jane said nothing, just stared at them, her gun aimed resolute at them, "Why?" she asked, but it emulated the force of another command. The proclaimed Cat Sithe let go of his wife and rested on his knees, looking up at Jane with pleading eyes.

"Why explain when you are just going to kill us? That's what hunters do."

"I'm not going to kill you. I want to know the truth." Jane said, her voice still firm, but had developed a softness. It was dark with agression, but still smooth with control, like velvet.

A fleeting expression of hope appeared on the man's face, and he let a slight laugh of relief leave him. He nodded, and looked between the three of them, his eyes glancing over their firearms.

"We've known about the presence of vampires in this town for some time now. In fact, many have come to stay with us. It was a teenage boy who approached us not too long ago with some rather...disturbing news."

"What kind of news?" Dean asked.

"We aren't exactly sure how to interpret it. Just that an evil was coming for all of us, and that we should prepare. He told us that his nest was starting to collect blood, that they would be strong and just wait it out, but fight if it was necessary. He suggested we do the same. Ever since, he's been calling us after a townsperson is killed so that we can collect their soul. We only recently started stealing the clothes. They were just so nice; they were there for the taking and any provisions are useful, and among all the terrors of this world, I simply wanted to give something nice to my wife."

The three hunters stood there and listened intently, letting his story paint a picture in their heads and piece it all together.

Dean turned to Jane, "So Max has everyone involuntarily registered in a blood bank."

"I suppose the woods were my idea." The Cat Sithe sighed, lowering his head in shame, "After we were called to collect the soul of his wee boss, I told him to be a bit more careful or else people might start suspecting something."

Sam looked at him with pity. He understood the drive to do anything to protect the ones you love, but innocent lives were being lost because of it ( _captured_ would be more accurate).

Suddenly, a phone buzzed on the front counter, catching everyone's attention with a collective hitch of breath. Sam, who was the closest, grabbed it and handed it to Dean, who then gave it to Jane.

She recognized the number written on the pie box she'd bought a few nights ago. It seemed like a dreamed memory now.

"It's Max. He wants to know if you've gotten what you needed..." Another message popped up.

 _Unknown: I understnd that u called the cops on the bdy agn. Do it agn and u will surely b caught, and I wn't hesitate 2 leave u 2 ur own demise._

" _Nice guy._ " Jane thought. Who knew abbreviated texting could come across so menacing.

"What else does it say?" The man asked nervously. Yet another text:

 _Unknown: Rning out of time. Need 2 do another hit. B redy 4 my call. NO COPS._

She looked up, trying to formulate some sort of way to stop him.

"What does it say Jane?" Sam asked, looking over her shoulders. His jaw clenched at the texts. He looked at Dean.

"He's going to kill again. Tonight."

* * *

"God, I hate stakeouts." Officer Peabody sighed, biting into his burger. His partner, Officer Sherman munched on a fry as he stared off into nothingness, because that's literally all he could see. Nothing.

"Why can't we just turn on some lights? We can't stake something out if we can't see anything."

"You're serious?" Peabody snarked, "Oh, I forgot, you're new. You're still an amateur. BUT that don't change the fact that the academy shouldn't have to be the one to teach you common sense. If we turn on the lights, it'll give away that we're here. Idjit." He scolded, sipping a soda.

"Well it stinks in here. And it's hot. Can we at least crack the windows?" Sherman whined.

"Fine! Just a little. I swear I don't understand why they partnered me with..."

There was a bloodcurdling scream erupting from Sherman, and Peabody watched in horror as a dark figure reached through the cracked window, shoving it farther down with brute force, and clawing into Sherman's chest, pulling his body half-way out the window and biting down hard, blood spraying everywhere. Sherman's legs writhed frantically inside the car, one of his feet managing to kick Peabody in the face and wake him from his daze. He hastily escaped the car, drawing his gun and walking frantically around the back end of the car, gun leading the way. Suddenly, the screams gurgled to an ear-piercing quiet. Peabody rounded the trunk of the police cruiser and saw only his partner, lying still and covered in blood, his feet still stuck perched on the sill of the car window, twitching.

"Sherman?...Dave?" Peabody whimpered, rendered skittish and helpless. He walked closer to his dead partner and stared dumbfoundedly at the gruesome animosity the stranger had possessed in killing him. It _was_ a person...wasn't it?

The officer hurried back into the car and turned it on, not bothering with the lights. In a panic, he grabbed his radio and called the station.

"Chelsea, get the sheriff! There's a killer on the loose and..." He flipped on his lights, ready to speed out of there, but his words were lost. All thinking dissipated as he stared at the bakery boy, covered in Sherman's blood, grinning devilishly at the car, a malicious grin from ear to ear.

The officer forced himself to blink, but instantly regretted it, seeing now that the boy had vanished. Had that really been Max? The nice kid who he bought donuts from every Monday?

"Good evening, Officer!" Max said enthusiastically, knocking on the window. Peabody jumped in his seat and looked aghast at the boy covered in blood, his white fangs shining through the dark. All that seperated them was the thin plexiglass window and car door, which the officer imagined would be yanked off its hinges at any moment. Max smirked at his hesitation, enjoying every minute he wasted with his prey. His parents never warned him not to play (too long) with his food, clearly.

The officer's eyes were opening wider and wider with each passing moment, paralyzed with fear in the driver's seat. Max began to grow impatient just standing there, and he balled his hand into a fist, drawing it back to deliver a blow to the glass. Peabody closed his eyes, the Lord's Prayer running through his mind—it translating into a holy whisper that passed his lips in haste. He repeated it over and over, and the vampire rolled his eyes.

Another set of headlights suddenly pierced the darkness. The officer, too caught up in his own prayers, never opened his eyes.

Max glared annoyedly at the black Impala as it cruised through the dirt, Dean honking the horn as a warning. Jane and the Cat Sithes jumped out, charging. Max's face turned grave at the sight of her.

"How the hell...I killed you!" Jane shouted.

"Shît." He said before turning around and darting into the woods.

"Oh no you don't!" Jane yelled after him. She looked at the Cat Sithes that flanked her and nodded. They both shifted into their cat forms without hesitation, and darted out into the dark woods, ready to intercept Max so Jane could catch him.

Sam and Dean stayed behind and inspected the vehicle, the dead Officer Sherman, and Officer Peabody in the driver's seat.

Dean tapped on the glass, "Hey!"

The officer flinched and drew his gun, pointing at the window.

"Woah! Woah just calm down buddy, you're safe now!" Dean stepped back, hands up.

Sam looked down at the body of Officer Sherman and then circled around the front, stopping next to Dean. The officer's eyes filled with relief and recognition as he groped his way out of the car. Sam realized who he was. The officer from the front desk at the Police Department.

"Agent Butler!" He rejoiced, "Oh thank God!"

"What happened here?"

"What does it look like?" Dean quipped, looking toward the woods, the direction Jane had ran. "I'm going to go after Jane. Get this guy back to the station."

"Wait, Dean...!" Sam tried to rescind, but his brother had already disappeared.

* * *

Jane could hear the crunch of running feet in front of her. She knew he was close, and with comeplete confidence, she aimed her gun and fired. A literal shot in the dark. She heard a wince and thud, and she hurried after it, finding Max crawling desperately on the forrest floor, grabbing at dirt and roots with one hand and cupping the gun wound on his thigh with the other. She stopped, and he looked back at her.

"Do it. I dare you." He growled.

"Oh I plan to, believe me." Jane reassured. She shot the same wound again, this time through his hand. He yelped and hissed at her. She cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at him.

"How are you still..."

"Alive? A witch owed me a favor. I told you devotion to family always pays off."

"You're pathetic." She growled.

"Oh _I_ am? And yet, weren't you the one that walked through _my_ door looking for a hookup?"

Before she could respond, the Cat Sithes emerged from the woods, growling, claws kneading the soil, fangs bared. Up close, you could compare the creatures to the size of large pit bull. They were quite fearsome, with blood red eyes and slick fur. Before, they'd only glimpsed the man in his true form. He was blacker than obsidian. His wife, in comparison, was a starch white, so pure and shiny a coat that it reminded you of the ebony keys on a piano. They were ebony and ivory, yin and yang. They came at him on each side, aligned with his head in between them.

"I kicked your ass before, and I'll do it again." Jane said darkly, her eyes flooded gold once more. She took out the knife bearing her family's crest. Max sat up, ready to make a break for it, but two pairs of claws bore into his chest, shoving him back down onto his back.

He had no way out of this one, and he knew it. You could see it in his eyes. Full of fear. Jane smirked, straddling him. The Cat Sithes dug further into his shoulders. He stared up at Jane.

"I'm stronger than two dumb felines!" He yelled, trying to sit up and toss them away, but they only growled. One of them moved closer to his face, sniffing his ear. The male. He suddenly spoke into Max's ear in a whispy, pointed way that made even Jane shiver.

"Stop kidding yourself laddie." He sounded like a whispering ghost.

Suddenly, he bit down on Max's ear with a crunch. His wife watched in awe as she shifted more weight onto her front paws. Max screamed, writhing on the ground underneath Jane, who bent her legs and stepped on his arms.

"Not so tough now, are you?"

"Jane!?" Dean emerged from the darkness behind them. He had heard the screams and ran in the direction, fearing it was her. He was stupefied by the sight before him.

"Are you sure you're a vampire?" Dean asked Max, walking around so that he stood in front of Jane and could look down at the boy. Max hissed, jutting out his fangs.

"It doesn't matter. He's going to die the same way no matter what." Jane said. Looking down at him now, she couldn't help but feel enraged. What he'd done to her...it was unpardonable. He would die. And then no one else would have to.

"After we kill him, we'll have to go find the nest." Dean said, still staring down at Max.

"Yep." Jane said. She shifted from her squat on his stomach to her knees, pressing the knife to his throat. "So where do you live Max?" Jane asked sweetly, although it tasted bitter in his mouth.

"Go...to...Hell." He coughed out, the blade now slowly drawing blood. She reared back her knife, ready to exert all her power.

Suddenly there was red. It was everywhere, splattered all over Jane's face, over the Cat Sithes, over Dean. Jane sat on the swiftly beheaded body in astonishment, her knife still lifted back behind her. She just stared with wide eyes at the head, which had rolled and faced away from her. What had just happened. She was too stunned to know.

The Cat Sithes hissed and ran off hastily into the underbrush. Dean looked up, an expression of pained recognition on his face. Jane struggled to pull away from her trance, her whole mind and body fixed on the head and the blood. The blood she had not spilt.

"Hello Squirrel."

A voice said next to her. She snapped out of it, looking up helplessly, all rage leaving her body in an instance and struggling for strength. Her eyes were back to their normal hazel.

She looked up and there he was in the gloom of the midnight moon. A black down coat, a blood red tie, scruff spread from ear to ear, a resting smirk on his lips, and deep eyes that held mischief and misfortune, speaking louder than any words. He was pure danger, Jane could tell. The way he rested the bloodied axe upon his shoulder made him look almost stately, but the dark energy that burned in his core sent chills through Jane, and she recognized the pit in her stomach. The same pit she had felt in that dreaded café. This was a demon, but clearly not just _any_. Dean looked at her and then back to the man.

"Crowley."


	20. Chapter 18 - Truth

**Whenever something puts me down, I immediately sit down and try to write...harnessing the energy and emotions and whatnot. I hope that all of you are having a great week and that this chapter only contributes more to the good vibes :)**

 **This chapter starts at the Davidson estate and then reverts back to Jane and the Winchesters.**

* * *

 _"And this is the forbidden truth, the unspeakable taboo - that evil is not always repellent but frequently attractive; that it has the power to make of us not simply victims, as nature and accident do, but active accomplices."_  
 _~ Joyce Carol Oates_

* * *

Tobias Davidson paced back and forth across a bearskin rug as he waited for a call. The door to his study was locked and the curtains were drawn. His arms were crossed with one hand lifted up and pinching his chin pensively. His eyes kept darting from the phone to the floor and then back to the phone. Josh hadn't called him with an update yet, and they were running out of time. He needed Jane back on the compound before the garrisons of the Principalities took matters into their own hands. That was one thing he did not need.

He couldn't wait anymore. He made a quick grab for the land line, but a knock on the door made him pause. He stood up straight, pulling down on his suit jacket and adjusting his tie. He took a deep breath. No one living or holy would ever see him less than composed.

"Who is it." He commanded the visitor to answer.

"Who do you think?" A voice answered outside. Tobias huffed at the tone of annoyance as he unlocked the door. He towered over almost everyone he stood up against. Everyone except his youngest son, Jacob.

"I see they found you." Tobias said, nodding but not stepping aside for Jacob to enter.

"You mean they finally busted me out of that prison you call boarding school?" Jacob said, pushing past his father and into the study.

"I see your world has only gotten darker since I left." Jacob commented, glancing around at the drawn velvet blocking the sunlight. "It's a beautiful day, you should get out and enjoy it. Better yet, get me out there, because I've been inhaling nothing but dust and mothballs since I got here."

"Quit complaining, boy. You are not to go anywhere until everything in this family is resolved." Tobias declared.

"Why the HELL would I care about what happens to this family?!" Jacob said, his voice rising. His eyes glowed a bright crimson, like two polished rubies.

"Do not raise your voice at me. You have NO _RIGHT_." Tobias yelled, a vicious scowl contorting his face. The creases in his forehead compressed into deep folds as his brows furrowed. He stomped over to his son nonchalantly pouring a glass of whiskey from a crystal decanter. Jacob set it down with a hollow thump and turned around slowly. His eyes went from crimson to a dark liquid gold.

"You need me. I don't need you. You have no control over me Tobias. I'm here for the benefits." He said in a deathly calm voice. He downed his glass and turned to pour another.

"I only allowed you back here in case your sister did not come through." Tobias growled.

"Oh, yeah that's right. How is little Janie? That little slût out fighting monsters again? You let her go out there and she had the stupid sense to come back every time. So she's gone out a bit longer this time. So what? She'll come back just like the bïtch she is." His jaw clenched.

"Do _not_ speak ill of your sister." Tobias warned.

"I will speak of her any way I like. You know, she may have been all sad and defiant when you sent me away, but she never contacted me once. _Once_. She didn't do shît for me. She had all the opportunities in the world. I gave them to her. I wrote her, I'd offer to meet her on jobs if she got away from you long enough. But I got nothing from her. She doesn't care about me, so why should I give a cräp about her?"

"She had no contact with you because _I_ forbid it."

Jacob stared at him in a fleeting moment of sorrowful resentment, but it quickly dissipated. He then shrugged, downing his second glass.

"If she really cared, she would have found a way. I know she's capable." He said quietly and looked down at the crystal cup, his thumb gently brushing over the edges. "Where is that little brat anyway? Did she finally get the sense to escape this Hell hole?" He said sarcastically, but the long pause from his father made him set down his glass before pouring a third. He looked at Tobias curiously.

"Where _is_ my beloved sister anyway?"

Tobias glanced at the phone.

"I don't know."

* * *

"Crowley." Dean growled. He instinctively reached into his jacket for his demon knife.

"Ah ah ah Dean." Crowley said, dropping his ax to the ground and leaning on it like a cane. "I have a feeling you're going to be very interested in what I have to say."

"Dean! Jane!" Sam called, rushing into the moonlight. Jane had caught Max in a clearing, and now it was bathed in the soft glow.

"Hello, Moose." Crowley smiled smugly as he watched Sam's eyes shift from the demon king to the bloody ax, and finally resting on Jane's defeated figure, still kneeling over a headless corpse. He looked to Dean for an explanation.

Dean stared back at his brother in the dark, at a loss, and turned to Crowley, "What the hell are..."

"This is getting tiring." Crowley said with a snap of his fingers. And then they were back in the hotel room, all of them. Even Max's body, the blood now trickling from the freshly-cut stump and staining the carpet. Dean looked bewilderingly at Crowley as his eyes adjusted.

"What good is it if I can't see your faces as they flood with delicious puzzlement?" Crowley asked with a smirk.

"Oh," Dean said. He laughed halfheartedly, thoroughly pissed, "right, yeah, of course. Not only did we just leave my car out in the woods...but we are back in this... _cråppy_ hotel room which, by the way, smelled dead long before you brought that tweeny vamp's corpse here. You could have told us whatever you needed to over the phone like before, you know? So again, what the hell are you _doing_ here?"

"Yeah, what's this all about?" Sam chimed in, his hands resting on his hips.

"Well, don't you think it's cruel to leave this poor girl straddling a man gone limp?" Crowley said, gesturing toward Jane with a nod. He struck the floor twice with the head of his ax and the body vanished. Jane gasped, now on all fours. Dean rushed forward and put a hand on her shoulder, whispering to her to stand, to follow his lead as he tugged up gently by her arm. She sniffled and stood, rubbing her eyes and taking short, pointed breaths to wake up from her daze.

"So," she sniffled one final time before clearing her throat, "you're the one who's been making house calls to the Winchesters."

Crowley scoffed, an amused smirk on his face, "Ha, I like her." He said, looking at Sam. He looked back to her and nodded. "Guilty. Although it's a shame _you_ hadn't been the one to answer the phone."

Jane gave him a bitchface and turned away, grabbing one of the remaining beers on their room table. Chuck knows she needed it.

"Just tell us why the hell you're here Crowley." Dean said impatiently. His arms crossed over his chest as he waited.

Crowley slid his hands into his coat pockets, shifting weight onto one hip.

"Let's just say that once again, something life-altering happened because of the two of you." Crowley began, looking between the brothers. Jane sat on the bed and listened without a word. She already had so many questions regarding that enduring statement, but she'd hold back until everything was out in the open.

"What do you mean..." Sam began.

"No questions L'oreal," Crowley spat as he rolled his eyes at the younger Winchester's long hair. Not only had that reference sickened him, but he hadn't realized just how accurate it had been.

"Allow me to explain, you big Moose. After the Leviathan escaped Purgatory, ancient bonds tying down creatures from God's greatest and most terrifying hits began to break, awakening evils that any mortal cannot even begin to perceive."

Jane sat up at this. She had read all sorts of Baltan journals on Purgatory, but she'd never thought the damned place could become so weak.

"Once bonds are broken," Crowley said gravely, like he was recalling some sort of horrific epitaph, "they can never be remade."

 _Shit_ , Jane thought, _whatever it is, the epitaph surely resides on the gravestone of humanity._ Jane shook her head as she looked at the Winchesters focused on Crowley. _No! Enough with the poetic crap Davidson. No matter what, these men saved your life. You have to protect them now._ She took a reassuring swig of her beer.

"Remember that portal you and that daft angel boyfriend of yours tried to jump through?" Crowley asked Dean, who scowled back in response.

"Well, that is no longer the only one. After the leviathan, Purgatory started to slowly deteriorate. Holes were torn everywhere. They're subtle, but easy to find by the older souls. This one snuck through a crack and lay dormant in Earth's crust for years since then, and now it has finally built up the strength to continue what it was purposed for a millennia ago."

"And what was _that_?" Jane asked curiously. Crowley turned to her and gave her a wry smile.

"To destroy any monster it came across."

Dean's arms fell to his sides. His eyes widened in disbelief. It sounded absurd. A monster created to end all monsters?

"Sounds like the opposite of Eve." Sam muttered, disgusted by the thought of the now dead Mother of All.

"In a way, yes, it is. But God created this creature to devour any monster on Earth...or more specifically, any supernatural being on Earth, including demons and his precious children."

"This _thing_ started wasting Angels?" Dean asked.

"Eating them for lunch more like it. God needed it stopped, so with the help of the human race, hunters like you and Baltan like her..."

Jane stood at the mention of her race. Crowley turned to her expectantly.

"Oh come on! Who do you think I am? Anyway, they are _my_ demons that have been following you."

"You're working for my father?" Jane asked in astonishment.

" _With_ , love. I'm working with your father. You see, word of this bloody monster's awakening spread through the nighttime circuit, and now every monster that breathes air is moving underground, preparing and stocking up bomb shelters like the Apocalypse is coming...again. A real biblical Blitzkrieg."

He looked between the Winchesters, "You really have no idea, do you? What the world is coming to. It's hilarious." He looked back to Jane, "Your father summoned me and made a deal. For every ten souls that they could not save, half would be sent to Hell while the other half would be sent to Heaven to fulfill their duties as the Principalities' personal lap dogs."

Jane set down her now empty beer bottle and stood defiantly, gold glinting across her pupil, "Don't you dare disrespect my family like that again."

Crowley chuckled mockingly, "And why would _you_ care? You abandoned _your_ family. Now I must save mine, and I'm using all the resources I can. Your father made a deal with me because the more souls they deliver to Heaven, the stronger a connection they maintain with their source of power, with the upstairs. But of course, you already knew that. The more souls I collect, the stronger my army kingdom grows, strong enough to defend against such ghastly monstrosities as that creature."

"Then why don't you just take your demons and defeat it yourself?"

"Did you not hear me before, you brat? This behemoth _kills_ monsters. It took a team effort of God, Angel, and Human to take it down before, causing _such_ devastation that no one recorded the catastrophe after because no one who witnessed it lived long enough. So you see, love, that is why all these monsters are stocking up. They're getting ready for defense, not assault. If you could get that through your thick skull..."

"Hey, that's enough." Dean interjected, silencing Crowley and pulling Jane's glare off the demon.

"Look," he began, "from what you've been telling us, from all the phone calls about needing our help...you want us to help you take down this thing? A monster you haven't even named let alone described."

"It has no name." Crowley said coldly. He took a breath and let it out, returning to his resting smirk.

He turned to Jane, "Your father is searching for you as we speak. Because of our contract, I have to provide him with as many demons as he damn well pleases. I, lucky for you, am not one of them." Crowley turned to the Winchesters, but continued to address her, "You should really tell them why your needed so badly back home, especially if you trust these two blubbering idiots." He remarked, scoffing at the two bemused Winchesters.

With that, Crowley snapped his fingers and disappeared from the room in an instant, leaving Jane and the Winchesters staring across the room at each other.

Jane looked down at her feet, her eyes wide and tearing up. She shook, wiping them away quickly and taking in a huge breath that hurt her lungs from the pressure. She slowly let it out and faced Sam and Dean.

Dean crossed his arms again, "You still have a bit of explaining to do."

Jane nodded, disheartened that the time had finally come to tell them everything.

"It all started and ended for me when I was born."

* * *

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	21. Chapter 19 - Birthright

_"This is the cloud that swallows trust, this is the black that uncolors us, this is the face that you hide from, this is the mask that comes undone."_  
 _~ Metallica, Some Kind of Monster_

* * *

"It all started and ended when I was born." Jane said, sitting down on the bed, already exhausted from thinking about how her newfound comrades might react.

"Started, because that was the day my father claims he realized how powerful I was and the possibilities that held for the family. Ended, because my family deemed me so precious that protection would mean isolation, and because my mother grew weak after having me, which meant that, sooner or later, I would have to take her place. After she had another child, she was bed ridden. I'd recently learned from a cousin that my father had decided to end her life himself, end her suffering. The only problem is, unless it is completely justified and or is the will of God, Baltan are forbidden to end the life of another of its kind. I guess that's when he first had contact with demons. I went to visit my mother's room and walked in on...on..."

Jane's hands came up to her face, pressing on her eyes to stop the tears that stung like the memory:

A dark room with a dark figure, the gleam of a dagger caught by the beams of light streaming in from the hallway, crimson branching over the white sheets from the head of the mattress where her mother lay, chest carved gruesomely, messily. She had watched in horror as the figure disappeared out the window. Desperately, she'd run to her mother's side, hands diving into the blood, prayers soaring from her lips as she tried to muster all the power in her tiny body to heal her mother. But she was already dead. There was sulphur on the windowsill, and she had grabbed a pinch and saved it in a capsule now hanging from her neck, but she would never tell anyone that.

Sam and Dean came to her side. Sam sat next to her, resting a hand on her back hesitantly, unsure of what to say. He looked up at Dean who stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed in distress. Jane's crying was clearly affecting him, and his nose crinkled up as he tried to think of a way to diverge the topic to something more positive, but Jane began speaking again before either brother had a chance to give any real comfort.

She cleared her throat, quickly wiping away the tears and straightening, "God, I'm sorry," she chuckled half-heartedly, sniffling, "I'm usually not like this...Anyway, like I was saying, that was when, I suspect, my father starting making...deals with devils. Souls kept disappearing too; people, monsters. It was subtle—surprisingly, Heaven never noticed, and if they did, they certainly weren't doing anything about it. My older brother, Joshua, he started acting a lot colder towards me. He started taking orders from our father, acting more and more obedient. He would accompany me on hunts and always watch me. Eventually, he became my guard, keeping me locked up in the main house and only being let out when my father commanded him. I tried to escape several times, but I never made it passed the gate. I think by the third time, Josh was just sick of me. This last time, the final time, I started an argument with him at dinner, excusing myself from the table, and once in the foyer, I bolted. He chased after me, and my father called two of his new goonies to help."

"But they weren't enough to stop you." Dean said with a smirk. Jane looked up at him and gave him a feeble half-smile of pride.

"Yeah."

"Wait," Sam said, "you said you were special; you're going to take your mother's place. Her place as _what_?"

"...As a leader." Her hands twisted in her lap as she sighed, "The Baltan have a council between all the clans. Sub-clans and The Origin. The Origin is the first clan, the strongest...my family. The leaders of each clan are one man and one woman, but the woman of The Origin is the 'alpha' of sorts. They are the judge; the mediator; the Head of the Council. My mom was that mediator, but after she died, the duty fell to my father since I was too young."

"Why would you run away from something like that? You could have power over your father and he wouldn't be able to hurt you anymore, right?"

"You would think so," Jane said defeatedly, "but because my father has been in the position for some time now, the rest of the leaders have grown to like him. He's kept me locked away and they must have been led to believe that I didn't want the responsibility...that I didn't _deserve_ it. I...I lost my chance. Now there's rumors that they're looking to make someone else the replacement, but I can't imagine who. Josh is too weak, and my younger brother..." Her voice trailed off. She hadn't thought about her brother Jacob for a very long time, not since her father had told her he'd killed himself while he was shipped off to Boarding School. No specifics. No funeral (at least not one she was allowed to go to). She _was_ given some of his ashes, but it never felt like enough.

"Now my father is looking for me. Those demonic sonsabitches are hunting _me_ , and I guess it's all because he lost his favorite weapon and wants it back. But I don't see why I should help him. I'm not his toy, and he's done nothing but go against the objective we were created to do."

"He's your father, Jane..." Sam began.

"Sammy." Dean said. Sam looked up at his brother, who shook his head.

"Alright, well if that's how you feel, you can stay with us for the time being. We've gotta figure out how to defeat this ancient "thing" before Crowley throws another fit." Dean said, eyeing the blood stain on the rug as he gathered their things. Sam followed suit, telling Dean he'll go borrow a car from the Cat Sithes and go find the Impala.

As they walked out of the room, Jane tugged at Dean's shirt, making him stop and turn towards her. Her face was serious, but her eyes were filled with emotion, a mix of hope and thanks and hurt. He looked back at her, contrarily, in confusion and concern. Was she going to start crying again?

"Dean?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Thank you." She blushed as the words passed her lips, like a sacred whisper. It was filled with so much gratitude. Dean looked at her, he _really_ looked at her. Her big, hazel eyes; her short auburn hair framing her face, her lips parted ever so slightly as she anticipated a reply; her shoulders back. She had a faint constellation of freckles that twinkled over the bridge of her nose and faded onto her cheek bones. He blinked, his mouth opening and closing. Then he nodded, not pulling his gaze from hers.

A ghost of a smile and she was walking past him, out into the hall with two backpacks lugged over each shoulder.

* * *

It was early morning when Sam returned in the Impala. There was a heaviness that settled on each of their minds like the fog that rolled in over the hills. It filtered through the trees, their branches blurred from view below. The light of the arriving dawn shone down on the driveway and glinted off Baby as Dean drove them away from the inn. Jane sat in the back seat, her head back and eyes closed, listening to the hum of the engine and letting it lull her to sleep.

Sam glanced back and smiled, happy to see that their new comrade was finally at ease, even if only for a short while.

"She asleep?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Yeah. Dean, what are we going to do about this monster that has no name? It sounds so ridiculous, and you and I both _have_ _had_ our share of ridiculous."

"You can say that again. And what's with this whole 'no name' business, anyway? You'd think this thing was Voldemort or something." Dean scoffed. His green eyes squinted as speckles of sunlight distorted by the fog hit the windshield.

"You got me." Sam replied with a shrug.

"Well, all I know is that we have to stop this thing. If what Crowley said is true, then we're in for...WHAT THE HELL?!"

The impala swerved to the side, but the body still clipped the windshield. Hard. It crashed almost all the way through, and Jane was flung in the back seat, colliding into the side door. The impala skidded in the same direction, the horrifying screech of rubber on asphalt trying with all its might to cease movement. Jane was now struggling to gain balance behind Dean who was pinned in the driver's seat by the headless corpse of the male Cat Sithe. The inn keeper had been stabbed in the chest repeatedly and quickly. The pleasurable afterthought of a morbid job.

Sam was on the other side of the car in the passenger seat still. Shards of the windshield had left cuts on his face, and he squinted one eye as he grimaced. It must have been injured as well. His other was open wide in horror as the car kept dangerously moving. Jane tried to battle the momentum but it was no use. She looked behind her past the back seat and down the open road leading to the inn. A figure in a black suit and dark glasses stood there, legs shoulder width apart, hands at his sides, just staring back at her and the car. The second she looked back, there he was again, now feet away from the impala. He crouched, holding out a fist.

The force of a battering ram colliding with metal, and they were airborne. Just as quickly as the impala had left the ground, it came crashing back, now tumbling over...and over...and over...

Then everything ceased. Like all sound had escaped the atmosphere. Even the usual ringing that accompanies one's ears after a disaster had left. Jane could only see darkness, then she opened her eyes. Painfully. Barely...but they were open. What they saw was unbelievable, and relieving. She had been laid gently across the pavement, side by side with Sam and Dean. She could hear them breathing faintly. She turned her head, starting to feel her body already reinvigorating itself, and stared up the road. Her bones ached as she tried to sit up, and she peered over Dean's chest slowly rising and falling. He had a large gash above his left eyebrow, as well as a few smaller cuts from the shards of wind shield. His jaw looked slightly swollen—she was sure a bruise would eventually form there. A dark, sticky blob had stained his shirt over his stomach.

She made a move to touch his face, but then she heard voices. Pulling her attention away were _two_ men in black. They were passing threats with a trench coat-clad angel. All three were brandishing weapons. Castiel's angel blade caught the sunlight cutting through a break in the thick foliage above. Jane squinted at the scene before her, looking around at the rest of the world. The impala lay in a heap on the side of the road, its windows obliterated and doors crushed. She glanced over at Sam, who was in the same shape as Dean, his eye puffed up around his cut. Sticky, drying blood was messily painted down his cheek.

The standoff between the celestial and devilish beings continued, and their rising voices snapped the tension between them. They went at it, one on two. Jane panicked, watching helplessly as she felt life finally return to her legs. She padded her pockets, but her own knife was not there. She'd left it in her bag...in the car. She frantically searched the Winchesters, finding a demon blade in Dean's jacket.

"I guess this will have to do." Jane croaked as she stood. She huffed and stepped over the older Winchester, limping to Castiel's aid as fast as her legs would allow. With each step, her vision became clearer and her anger burned hotter. She hadn't realized it, but her eyes had turned gold now. Her hazel had been swallowed up by the deep color, her irises like two small flowers floating in the middle of twin pools.

Castiel glanced back at her for a split second, "Jane, you are hurt. Stay out of this fight."

"I'm afraid she's already in it." An all too familiar voice growled. A knife came to her throat.

"Josh." Jane growled.

A grunt came from one of the demons as Castiel stabbed him in the chest. His bones sparked and burned under his vessel's skin as his dark eyes flashed for the final time.

"YOLANDO!" The other called, lunging at Cas in pure rage. Castiel maneuvered to the side, grabbing the demon's arm and snapping it without hesitation.

The demon cried out from the pain, "So, you're planning to break every last bone in this poor man's body?" He spat at Cas's shoes, which only angered the angel more. Without responding, he plunged his blade through the demon's throat.

"That should be a good enough answer." He said, dropping the limp body.

"Cas..." Jane choked out, grabbing at Josh's hands and trying to find air for her lungs. Castiel took a step forward, his piercing blue eyes roaming over the knife held to her throat before locking with hers. He nodded at her and disappeared.

"Ha," Josh laughed, huffing from the effort he was exerting on his sister. Like Jane had said before. He was weak.

"Looks like your little friend got scared and flew away." Josh whispered in her ear triumphantly.

Jane made an effort to laugh but ended up with a horrid cough, "You are so..." She struggled, "S-s-stupid!"

Hands clamped onto Josh's scrawny shoulders, surprising him and pulling him back into Cas. Josh failed to let go, but his grip loosened enough for Jane to breath. She grabbed his arm and bit down. Hard. Josh yelped, gold slowly pouring into his eyes. Jane didn't even have to see them to know.

"Shït Castiel. You have to do it now!"

"But Jane..."

"Do it NOW." Cas flipped the Angel blade up in his hand and thrusted it forward, so deep it pierced through both Davidsons. Jane coughed up blood, but Josh got the brunt of it. The gold disappeared and they both fell off the knife like Cas was peeling meat off a skewer. A Baltan kabob. Jane fell to her knees and scrambled out of the way of her brother's unconscious body. She knew the lull wouldn't last. She scanned the road frantically, her eyes landing on one of the former demon's weapons. She crawled over, prying it from a hand frozen by death. Castiel kept his gaze fixed on Josh, waiting for him to wake.

The weapon was yet another one of the Baltan's precious knives. Jane couldn't believe it. They were so hard to make, and yet her father seemed to be mass-producing them, just handing them out to his demonic lackeys. This one was also crafted less elegantly, with a jagged blade that measured almost from her elbow to the tips of her fingers. Someone powerful must be working for him, she figured. What she couldn't understand is why Heaven hadn't taken action yet.

With the weapon grasped tightly in her hand, she limped back to Castiel, only a few feet, although it felt like a mile. Her other hand rested on her back where the Angel blade had pierced her. She could feel the warm liquid dripping and soaking through her shirt and into her palm, but she continued on. Her expression sent a pang of worry through Cas. No expression showed on her face. Her eyes glowed like fire. Her knuckles now strained white from gripping the massive Baltan knife.

Josh gasped awake at Castiel's feet. Jane stood, looking down at him with the same monotonous glare. Castiel looked at her. Her eyes weren't gold. She was completely in control of what she was doing.

"Jane." Castiel said sternly. All the noise from the birds and the distant cars and even the wind in the trees seemed to cease around them, like they were standing in some kind of vacuum. She dropped to her knees, her eyes fixed upon her brother, now gulping air with urgency as he gripped his chest. The moment he met her eyes, he lunged. A shot rang out and he fell to the ground again, cursing and gasping, his hands grabbing at his bloodied clothes trying to find the bullet. Jane still remained unfazed.

Castiel pulled his eyes from the red puddle that now spread out on the asphalt. He saw Dean, on _his_ knees, still holding up the gun he'd found in his back pocket. He stared back gravely, his eyes drifting from the angel's to Jane, resting on Josh. There was no reason he could think of to stop her. All he saw was a monster trying to kill his friend. A monster who had been tainted by the evil ways of demons. A monster that threatened Jane's life. He dropped the gun and sat down with a groan, his head aching. He glanced behind him at Sam, who still lay unconscious on the road. His chest was rising and falling, faintly but steadily. He would be fine.

"Any last words, brother?" Jane asked, pity now coloring her tone.

He chuckled wearily, rolling onto his back in defeat and staring up at the trees.

"You'll always be," he coughed, the nauseating squish of blood in his throat, "Father's little bïtçh."

"No, Josh. You will. You have been for a long time. I'm sorry it had to end up like this."

"Just do what...what you have to..." He coughed again.

"You don't have to die you know. We are family after..."

"Fûçk you Jane. Fûçk you and your twisted fantasy about our family." Josh said more clearly. His body was beginning to heal.

"We are...broken. We can't be fixed. Father...Tobias is the leader. He knows what's best and whoever defies him...they end up like you. Always running for your life. If you don't k-k-kill me, he will."

"Josh, I..."

"Just DO IT JANE!" Josh yelled, catching her off guard. He shot out his arms, grabbing her and pulling her to his chest in an embrace, the blade in her hand burying into his chest to the hilt.

"Holy shït." Dean muttered, watching with wide eyes.

"J-J-J..." Josh sputtered before letting go and falling back.

"JOSH!" Jane screamed, unable to move.

"J-J-J...Jacob. He's...he's _coming_ for you next Jane... _Run_."

And death overtook him.


	22. Chapter 20 - Wounds

_"You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don't trust enough."_  
 _~ Frank Crane_

* * *

It took a large amount of strength and grace, but Castiel managed to transport Jane and the Winchesters, _and_ the Impala, back to the bunker. The poor car sat in a heap in the garage as Jane lay on the couch in the library, her knees pulled to her chest as she stared forlornly at nothing in particular. Sam had been placed on his bed with a glass of water and a bottle of Advil on his bedside table, wounds cleaned and patched up, Dean's handiwork. Cas promised to use his grace and heal him thoroughly once his strength returned.

After his brother was settled, Dean was unsure what to do next. He'd offered Jane food, water, all turned down by a quick shake of her head. He decided to tend to his Baby, because at least he knew how to fix _that_ problem. So there he stood, wincing at the broken windows and dented side doors, trying his best to focus on a clean repair job and nothing else. Fixing the impala had become something that kept his mind focused, and amped up his determination.

The impala, she was home. Dean could fix his broken home. He only wished he could do the same for Jane.

He took a step back, his arms crossed as he studied her pensively. His eyes glided over the roughed edges, searching for a good place to start. Then he picked up his tools, ran his hand over the contorted metal, and began prying, separating, and piling piece after piece, putting everything together on the floor of the garage, like compiling the pieces of a puzzle. He wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist, smearing a dark brush of grease across it. He sighed and continued on.

He worked liked this for an hour more, no interruptions, no real thought, just Dean and his car. Classic Rock echoed through the garage, a Metallica song reaching the climax of a guitar solo. Dean was so focused that he hadn't even noticed Castiel stepping into the room, the door falling shut behind him. Dean turned to grab a wrench and was startled by the Angel. He rushed over to the radio in frustration.

"Jesus Cas, don't scare me like that!"

"I'm sorry Dean. I just came up to tell you that Sam is awake."

Dean's frown softened, "Oh. Well then, thanks."

"Oh, and Jane is...she is not sitting on the couch anymore. She is looking after Sam."

Dean looked down at his feet, at the dirt and grime covering his clothes, and he consciously wiped his hands and face on a rag he pulled out of his back pocket. His brow furrowed for a moment, but Castiel didn't know why. He cocked his head to the side as he waited for Dean to speak. Those candy-apple-green eyes met his bright blue ones for a second, then Dean nodded.

"Alright." He said with a kind of resolve in his tone. He threw the rag on his tool tray and walked past the Angel back into the bunker.

Castiel stood there with a raised eyebrow, thinking that was odd, "Alright." He repeated, then turned and followed after him.

Dean walked down the stairs, through the library, into the hall, and down to Sam's door. Not even bothering to knock, he walked inside, firstly noting Sam's smile as he talked to Jane. She was changing the bandage on his eye. She snorted, her shoulders rising as she tried to suppress a laugh. Sam turned to his brother, his smile never disappearing. He sat up a bit more in his bed with a sudden exhale. Jane helped rearrange the pillows behind his back before also turning to Dean and smiling.

Dean studied his brother for a moment. He wore a clean plaid shirt, the buttons all undone, a large bandage pressed to his left pec. Numerous scratches were still red, some swelled up, all over his arms and upper chest, probably from the windshield glass. His right eye had a patch of gauze and bandage tape over it, like an eyepatch. There was a scratch over his left cheek. Otherwise, he looked fine.

"He kind of dislocated his shoulder, but Castiel helped me set it back." Jane said to Dean.

"Yeah, and it was fricken awful." Sam teased, giving her a bitch face.

"Well doesn't it feel better now? If you don't like it, I can always undo it." Jane retorted with a smirk, earning a chuckle from Sam.

"I'm glad you're feeling better." Dean said, leaning against the door frame.

"How is she?" Sam asked, referring to Baby.

"She'll be fine. I'll fix her up in no time." Dean said, "Don't you worry about her Sammy. Worry about yourself healing up so we can go kill those sonsabitches who did this to you."

Jane tilted her head to the side in thought, giving Dean a once-over. He noticed and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Aren't _you_ injured?" Jane asked. He had seemed just as hurt as Sam by the crash, but maybe Cas had rescued them just in time before any real damage was done. In response, though, Dean lifted his shirt, a large pad of gauze wrapped to his torso.

"Cas did something to take away most of the pain." He said nonchalantly.

Jane stared at him in disbelief. He was injured that badly and yet he was worried about his car. Granted, Jane would care about her car more than herself on any given day, but she had already healed from her injuries. She wasn't human. The Winchesters _were_ , although she was starting to doubt that fact more and more with each passing hour.

"You should rest. Your body will have more time to heal." She said in a worried tone.

"Oh come on _Mom..._ " Dean said, looking away and trying not to blush at the concern. Men, under any circumstance, _don't blush_. Her worried eyes continued to study him. Then she stood up and looked at Sam.

"I'll leave you be for a little while," she said with a smile, "and thanks."

"No problem." Sam said with a knowing smile.

She walked toward the door and shoved Dean out of the room with her. He groaned; she shoved the part of his chest that was still swollen from his injury. Jane ignored it, pushing him all the way to the library and to a couch.

"Sit." She said, walking away toward the kitchen. Dean watched her go and huffed, crossing his arms as he sat on the couch. She came back moments later with a glass of burgundy liquid and a first aid kit. She sat on the coffee table and leaned closer, pressing her hand flat against his chest, making him tense up.

He looked down at her, "Um, Jane..."

"Shh!" She silenced. Dean's mouth twisted in annoyance, his lips pressing firmly together.

He glanced back at her again. He'd dropped his arms, resting them by his sides, leaving him in a position close to lounging. Jane had closed her eyes, moving her other hand to rest firmly flat next to the other. He was both confused and intrigued by her moment of complete concentration, her brows furrowing like she was struggling to hear something. Was she trying to hear his heart beat? Suddenly her eyes popped open and she sat back, nodding with a "Mhmm, gotcha." She looked at him seriously. He looked back with a gulp, his eyes wide and fearing what she'd say next. He had to admit, there was a slight chance she had a screw loose.

With an unwavering tone, she commanded, "Shirt. Off."

"What?" He said, looking at her in disbelief.

Jane rolled her eyes, "Get your mind outta the gutter. I want to take a look at your wound."

"But Cas already..."

"Most of his grace is depleted. He even admitted that he still had some repair to do on you before you were completely healed."

Dean scoffed, "Well," he said, trying his best calm voice, not wanting to sound in denial, "I feel completely fine."

Jane laughed at that, "Yeah, right. Now take off your shirt so I can at least change your bandage," she reached into the first aid kit and muttered, "stubborn åss."

Dean sighed and did as she asked. When Jane turned back, she paused for a minute on his abs, then subconsciously slapped herself as she slid her eyes down to the bandage and took a deep breath.

"Okay." She said under her breath. She began unwrapping the bandage. Dean reached for the glass of liquor and she slapped his hand.

"Hey!" He said, cut short by a wince as she touched his exposed wound with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol.

"What?" Jane asked, worried she'd touched the injury too briskly.

"I just want a sip of the drink you got me."

Jane looked at him in annoyance, "Hold still! And that bourbon is not for _you_. It's for _me_." She clarified, taking a mocking sip.

"Oh come on! I'm the one in pain here!"

"Ha! So you admit it! You're hurting!..."

"Yes, okay fine! I am," he paused, his eyes roaming her face before meeting hers, "but so are you."

Jane went tense, all expression gone from her face. She just stared back at him, not surprised he brought it up.

Then she turned her head away from him, "Look, I already went through this with Sam. I'm done thinking about it."

She dared herself to look back at the elder Winchester. He felt a pang of hurt, but that subsided almost as quickly as it formed.

"Fine. Just...take it from me. You shouldn't keep ugly things like that bottled up. Eventually everything you shove down will push back and you won't know what to do with it all." She turned back and let a small smile slip.

"Thank..."

"No need to thank me Jane." Dean said, finally giving her a knowing smile back with a wink. Jane glanced down at his unwrapped wound.

"Oh shït," Jane said, "sorry, I forgot about your new bandage." She said, flustered. She reached for the gauze, but the packet was empty. As she dug around, letting the curses flow stronger and more hateful by the second, Dean leaned closer, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward. Her eyes widened at the gesture but she said nothing. Her heart began to race as she watched him dip down and scoop something off the floor, placing it firmly in her hand. The gauze.

 _Oh_.

"You dropped it." They were so close, his left hand on her wrist.

"Uh..." She wanted to thank him but...she honestly didn't know what to do anymore. She laughed nervously. A smirk spread across his face, and he let go of her wrist and leaned back, this time with a glass of bourbon meeting his lips. She was at a loss for words.

Dean swallowed with a satisfied sigh, "Now that's good." He said, studying the glass fondly for a moment before putting it back where he'd stolen it.

Jane growled, "You..."

"Dean." Castiel appeared in front of them.

"Castiel?" Jane said, surprised.

"Jane." He nodded.

He looked between the two hunters, his concentration landing on Dean again, "You need to see this."

Cas reached out his hands and touched them both on the shoulder, immediately transporting them outside. Dean felt an immediate draft. He looked down, remembering his shirt was still off. The wound was healed.

"Castiel, it's freezing out here, why..." Jane paused, looking up at the dark skies overhead. A sudden gust of wind ripped through the open field where they now stood.

"This can't be a good sign." Dean muttered.

Castiel looked up at the ominous clouds, breathing deeply. He closed his eyes, searching the energy of the Earth for something. Anything. His crystal blues popped opened as he looked up towards his father's domain.

"Something is coming."

* * *

 **Please don't forget to vote for and comment on this chapter! Thanks :)**

 **Soooooooooo, yeah. Sorry I just couldn't resist adding a bit of Dean fluff in there. There are some times where I imagine Jane as this badass woman and then there are others where I see her as an awkward teenager haha. But I mean...who wouldn't swoon at that?!**

 **Castiel has sensed something with his Angel Mojo. Something is coming and now Jane and the Winchesters have to make a game plan. Now usually, when there are drastic and sudden changes in the weather, it means that there is a huge amount of Demon activity in an area...but are there demons nearby?... Stay tuned for the next chapter! :)**


	23. Chapter 21 - Primordial

**Hello SPN Fam!**

 **I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it! If you are, then please don't hesitate to drop a follow on this story! I love Supernatural and am so inspired by the characters. If you have any suggestions, comments, or ever want to talk about** **the show, please leave a comment and a like on this chapter!**

 **Thank you!**

* * *

 _"Not everyone who reaches back into history can survive it. And it is not only reaching back that endangers us; sometimes history itself reaches inexorably forward for us with its shadowy claws."_  
 _~ Elizabeth Kostova, The Historian_

* * *

"Okay, so, dark clouds, fierce winds..." Dean listed off, sitting at the grand mapped table in the bunker.

Jane sat across from him, tapping her fingers on the table impatiently.

With the flap of wings, Castiel returned with Sam, one hand resting firmly on his shoulder.

"I'm guessing it's still there." Jane said, turning to Sam.

Cas nodded, "It is covering more of the sky now. There is dark energy expanding farther and farther in all directions."

"What are we going to do?" Jane asked, resting her hand flat on the table.

"What are we gonna do? We're gonna stop this sonofabitch before it gets any worse." Dean declared.

"But we need to find the source of it first." Sam pointed out, sitting down at the head of the table. Dean and Jane both turned their seats toward him.

"Okay, what's the first thing you think of when you see extreme changes in weather?" Dean asked.

"Demons." Sam said matter-of-factly.

"But you heard what Crowley said." Jane sat up in her chair, "We're dealing with some kind of ancient evil. I want to think it's demons as much as the next guy, but, we all know that we have no idea what we're really dealing with."

Cas sighed, "Actually," he said, earning the attention of the three, "I still have some connections in Heaven. I asked around about our predicament. What we're dealing with...it's an ancient creature that devours anything and everything in its path."

"What?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"They call it _Behemoth_."

"We're dealing with an elephant demon?" Sam, who had already grabbed his laptop and begun searching the name, looked up from his computer at Cas in confusion.

"No. Hinduism holds only one interpretation. It is said in the book of Job that God created a creature so fearful that only he can destroy it. Job 40, lines 15 through 24 in the New Testament..."

Sam typed quickly on his keyboard.

Flatly, he read, "Look at Behemoth, which I made just as I made you; it eats grass like an ox. Its strength is in its loins, and its power in the muscles of its belly. It makes its tail stiff like a cedar; the sinews of its thighs are knit together. Its bones are tubes of bronze, its limbs like bars of iron...

"...bars of iron." Jane said with him. Sam stopped his reading.

"It is the first of the great acts of God—only its Maker can approach it with the sword." Jane continued, reciting it as if she were in some sort of trance, "For the mountains yield food for it where all the wild animals play. Under the lotus plants it lies, in the covert of the reeds and in the marsh. The lotus trees cover it for shade; the willows of the wadi surround it. Even if the river is turbulent, it is not frightened; it is confident though Jordan rushes against its mouth. Can one take it with hooks or pierce its nose with a snare?"

The Winchesters looked at her, speechless. Dean studied her face, noticing the traces of gold being sucked up into her retinas like water down a drain.

Sam's jaw had dropped, "Jane, how did you..."

"All people have the word of the Lord within them, but only his holy servants are able to access it at will." Castiel answered.

"Except," Jane said, her voice breathy, "I had no idea that was in me. I knew all this time, and yet, I couldn't...I couldn't remember."

"Does your magic hard-drive tell you anything about how _we_ can beat this thing?" Dean asked.

"Besides the obvious help from God, who is no where to be found," Cas said with a sigh of defeat, "no. There is no other _written_ way of how to destroy the behemoth."

"Well, that's fine." Dean resolved, standing. His lips pursed in thought, "We never go by the book anyway, ain't that right Sammy?"

Sam shrugged, "It's true."

"The problem _now_ is...what are we going to do? The closest we have to God is Castiel, and if _God_ can barely gank this thing then how do we expect one angel's grace to have _any_ affect?...No offense, Cas."

"None taken. I agree with you. We have no weapon nor power that can match the legendary strength of this monster."

"But what about more than one?" Sam suggested, "You said you still had allies up in Heaven."

"I do," Cas said, his hand rising to grip the bridge of his nose, "but those that I still speak to, our friendships have worn very thin every since the Leviathan escaped Purgatory, and even before that there was the incident with Lucifer."

"Incident...oh, I think I heard about that. A man was possessed and...no way." Jane looked between the two Winchesters, her eyes stinging. She didn't cry, but she could feel her lungs contracting, her chest becoming heavy at the realization. The two hunters who had been through so much (that was an understatement), who had been mentioned in passing conversation around her house, in brief whispers at the dinner table. The Winchesters had literally been through Hell and lived.

"Yeah...that was me." Sam said awkwardly, filling the silence that had ensued.

"You were...Sam, I..."

"It's okay Jane. It's in the past now."

"But..."

"Jane." Dean said. She turned to him, "Everything is fine. I got Sam back. Neither of us plan on going back there any time soon. In fact, I'm not planning on going back there at all if I can help it."

"And certainly neither of you deserve to go back. You have no place there." Castiel said adamantly.

"Don't worry Jane. Let's just focus on killing this Purgatory drop out." Dean said with a smirk.

"Right." Jane said, taking a deep breath.

He stood and scooted his chair in, the legs creaking slightly against the floor.

"Let's get to work."

They worked for hours, checking any book in the library that could be remotely related to the Behemoth. It was getting late, and coffee was running dangerously low.

"God, this feels hopeless." Jane whined, shutting yet another old Men of Letters journal, dust whiffing off the cover into a dingy cloud as she added it to the nice pile of failed research that was beginning to tower over her.

"Don't start praying to God just yet." Dean mumbled, concentrating on a myths-and-legends website. He'd given up on coffee and was now sipping on a beer.

"You'll probably get drunk before you find anything." Jane grumbled, retreating to the shelves to see if she missed anything.

"Hey, I'm searching just as hard as you. And I _have_ found something, it's just too ridiculous to be true."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked from across the room. He was also knee-deep in books.

"I mean it's stupid. No way something like 'that' could work. It doesn't even mention anything about the behemoth."

"Then why is it even bothering you?" Jane asked, walking over to him.

"It just...it got me thinking, that's all."

Jane leaned over his shoulder, too tired to notice their closeness. Dean noticed though, her breath tickling his neck. He leaned forward a bit more, trying to stop the goosebumps from following. Jane noticed the shift, but only raised an eyebrow as she read. Her eyes widened.

"An ethereal atomic bomb...with two 'heavenly entities' in at the source...So what _exactly_ were you picturing when you found this?"

"'Passion in the soul'?" Sam read aloud, trying not to laugh. Because of his tallness, he had leaned over both of them and was now scanning the article Dean was making a fuss about, or rather trying _not_ to make a fuss about.

"See? I told you it was stupid."

"Wait, Sam, where does it say that?" Jane asked, suppressing a giggle.

"Right there, fourth paragraph."

"A kiss between two holy beings," Jane read in a tone of grandeur which made her sound like some kind of snooty historian, "ignites the passionate light within them, causing an indescribably powerful pulse to radiate from between them, a light equivalent to that of God that obliterates anything within a certain distance."

Sam laughed and she broke character, "You're kidding me, right?" Jane asked bemusedly.

"Who wrote this çråp?" Dean questioned, motioning to close the computer.

"Wait!" Jane said, suddenly resting a hand on Dean's arm, making him tense up, "There...might be something to this."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Just a second ago you were dissing this heavenly make-out shït." Dean argued.

"I know I was...but there is something that caught my attention. The light coming from within them...that's like grace, right Cas?"

Castiel stood from his seat in one of the big armchairs in the library. He walked over, a quizzical look on his face.

"I suppose so."

"Hmm...I think I have a way to test this out." Jane stood up straight, her fist hitting her palm in resolve.

" _Test this out_?" Dean asked. He could already tell he wasn't going to enjoy this.

Sam, however, was intrigued, "Wait...explain first."

"Well, Castiel is an angel. That's one 'heavenly being'. I'm part of the Baltan. I don't exactly have wings, but I'm still a warrior of God. That makes two. Two heavenly beings. Now, the only reason that I think this will work is because of this story my...mother told me once when I was little. It was a tale of how the Baltan would operate in ancient times. You know, how they did business."

Dean closed the laptop in interest. Sam and Castiel both took seats as well as Jane stood at the head of the table.

"I don't know if this'll be as enthralling as my mom used to tell it but, I'll give it a try." Jane said. She tugged her hair out of its scraggly ponytail, letting it fall, brushing the tops of her shoulders and mesmerizing her audience. She took a deep breath and let the details flow.

"In ancient times, let's say, during the reign of Caesar Augustus, the time of Jesus' birth, the Baltan had already been looking after humans since God threw Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden..."

Sam leaned over to Dean, "Hey Dean, Adam..."

"Shhh...she's telling an important story, Sam. Show some respect."

Sam leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"And, although God was looking down upon the people who soon grew into villages and towns and cities, there were always the nooks and crannies. Those spaces in between purity and sin that were harder to pinpoint. So, like I've explained before, the Baltan became the middle men and women for Heaven. God made a rank of angels, the Principalities, to watch over the Baltan as they made sure that what Fate decided was not interfered with. BUT, there was a time when angels and Baltan did not get along. Angels saw my people as inferior beings, and the Baltan saw Angels as corrupt, greedy, and drunk with power."

Jane glanced at Castiel uninhibitedly, meeting those blue eyes and instantly regretting it. She felt none of these hateful things toward Cas, it was just a reflex. Thankfully, he understood.

"It is alright Jane. Although I was a part of a different garrison, I was aware of my brothers' and sisters'...slightly impetuous emotions."

Jane nodded, clearing her throat and continuing, "So anyway, I'll get to the point. For a time, the angels thought that they could do a better job than the Baltan ever would. They would fly down to the Earth and walk among the people, invisible to the human perception. But unlike our friend, Castiel, the angels had the minds of soldiers, with virtually no understanding of complex human emotion. They would misinterpret the actions of people, labeling everything as a sin. You see, the Baltan were given the ability to understand the imperfections of humanity which is what set them apart."

Jane placed her hands flat on the table and looked at the Winchesters, "The reason this is related to what you found, Dean, is because as one of the Baltan's strategies of retaliation, they...they would capture angels and," Jane gulped, like she was repulsed by the idea, "...and steal their grace. Consume it whole, granting the Baltan a limited amount of power, enough to take down a hundred angels in one blow, since our 'internal makeup' is so different. The grace would merge with a Baltan's soul to create something equivalent to a nuclear reactor, just as dangerous and hard to control. This was done through direct contact of heart to heart, hands to chest, or more commonly, mouth to mouth. It later became known as the "Kiss of Death," and the technique has ceased into existence, a gruesome memory of the past, although, by the looks of how things are currently with my father in charge, history may likely repeat itself soon."

Sam looked at Dean, his eyes fixed on Jane, "So, this isn't done anymore." He asked slowly.

"No," Jane replied, pulling out a chair and finally sitting, "but you see why I've told you? If we're careful, there might be a way to combine Cas' and my grace without killing either of us."

"That would certainly be ideal." Castiel said.

"But you don't know for sure how this will affect Cas. This whole 'Kiss of Death' thing is a one way transfer." Sam said.

"Well, I have reached into a person's souls before. Jane believes that meeting in the middle can somehow merge and cause a divine explosion. It would be very dangerous if not done perfectly."

"Yes, kind of like when you strike jumper cables together. We may just need to make a spark if we can weaken this behemoth enough to..."

" _If_ we can weaken it. We still don't know exactly what we're dealing with here." Dean clarified. He sat forward in his chair, "We can't make a plan until we see this thing for ourselves. You think a man goes on a safari without knowing what to expect out there? If he's stupid, he'll get knocked on his äšs by a lion."

"I get that. But this is the only idea we've got. Might as well try it." Jane persisted.

Sam looked at his brother, "It's worth a shot."

"Fine. You can watch Jane and Cas lip-lock for the rest of night, but I'm going to see if I can find any leads on this thing's location.

Jane stood, "Wait Dean..."

"Maybe I'll see what I can get out of Crowley." Dean said as he walked off.

He turned down the hall and to his room, packing a small bag of guns and other provisions. Cas had told him the location of the field he'd taken him and Jane to, so he had some idea of where to start. He wished he hadn't found that article, that he hadn't said anything. It had brought about a dangerous idea, and now Jane was hell-bent on seeing it through.

"Damn that woman's determination." Dean grumbled as he headed to the stairs.

"Dean," Sam called from the library. Dean poked his head out from behind the doorway. Sam met him at the base of the stairs, "Be careful, okay? I get that you're...frustrated, so just don't do anything reckless."

"Frustrated? I'm not frustrated."

"No, now you're in denial." Sam retorted.

"Okay, you know what," Dean said, gesturing toward the library, "I'm not gonna take this. I think it's a swell idea that we make an angel grenade but I don't need to be there for the trial run."

"Oh, I get it. Since when do you get jealous?" Sam scoffed, crossing his arms.

"I AM NOT..." Dean glanced at the entrance to the library and lowered his voice, "I am _not_ jealous. I just don't think sitting around and watching those two is a productive use of my time."

"Alright," Sam relented, not at all convinced, "I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks. I'll do the same. See ya Sammy." Dean said as he turned and headed to the garage.

* * *

 **Now Jane and Team Free Will have a name to the big bad monster they need to face.**

 **Now I know what you might be thinking, but I swear this won't turn into some sappy smut fest. This is not that kind of story.**

 **So let me just say that nothing "weird" and love triangle-y will happen. At least I'm pretty sure 😉. Soooooooo...Stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	24. Chapter 22 - Omens

**Hello SPN Fam!**

 **I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it! If you are, then please don't hesitate to drop a follow on this story! I love Supernatural and am so inspired by the characters. If you have any suggestions, comments, or ever want to talk about** **the show, please leave a comment and a like on this chapter!**

 **Thank you!**

* * *

 _"It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule."_

 _~ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King_

* * *

Dean smoothly climbed out of the Impala, something he'd been doing for so many years now. It was an action he never thought about, like how someone blinks or breathes. How many times had he exited his car? How many times had he and Sam climbed in, shutting the doors simultaneously after they'd walked away from a crime scene, or from Bobby's house? Dean never gave it a thought. Not until now.

He really had to think about how he got out of the Impala this time, because as he opened the door, dark masses slowly floated down to the asphalt around him. Mixtures of soot and ash and smoke swirling in small columns that descended from the sky and came to rest, floating only inches above the ground. They had started to fall only seconds after he had parked Baby. He had taken a side road that led along the field Castiel had showed him the day before.

These "things" weren't like a demon's smoke. They were wispy. Little columns that touched down to Earth and hovered there. Dean approached one cautiously, gun raised. There was a soft pounding that reverberated through it, like a heartbeat, like it was alive. Closer still, he grabbed a leaf off the ground and tossed it into the dark mass. It instantly sputtered apart, the dark particles eating at the leaf's frayed edges. Dean quickly stepped back, putting away his gun. He looked among the dark pillars behind him and found a path back through to the car.

The sky was growing darker by the second. As Dean drove carefully back down the road, the radio rattled off about the numerous theories for the dwindling light in the early afternoon, mainly uncharted eclipses and storms.

"There is a storm coming, but not the kind humans associate it with." Castiel said as he fluttered into the car, startling Dean.

"Cas! What the fûčk, don't just pop in here while I'm driving!"

"Dean, we have to go back and look at those dark masses. They have an evil energy."

"Yeah, no shït." Dean said as he pulled over to the side of the road, finally clear of the field and those _things_. His heart was still pounding from Castiel's surprise visit. Dean turned and scowled at the angel, "What's so important that you can't just tell me about them here?"

"Well, I suppose I could, but I figured a visual representation would be more helpful..."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Fine, but I'm not going back that far. We'll stop at the edge of the field. That's it." The Impala made a u-turn and they were off.

* * *

"Sam?" Jane called as she walked into the bunker library. She had gone to make some coffee, but had suddenly found an angel-less kitchen. Sam was on his computer, reading and re-reading the site Dean had found.

"This seems simple enough, but," he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, clasping his hands behind his head, "whether it's real or not...did you and Cas...?"

"No." Jane set down her tea and took the seat next to him, "He just vanished. He was saying something before about needing to talk to Dean. I...I feel bad."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Just because, Dean seemed so angry earlier..."

"Oh. Jane, don't worry about it. He's fine."

"...Right," she looked down at her hands, "Well regardless, I don't think this 'Kiss of Death' thing is really worth the risk. It might hurt us before we even get a chance to hurt 'It'."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Sam closed his laptop and stood up, straightening his green plaid shirt over his torso, "We'll just have to hit it with everything we've got when the time comes."

Jane nodded as their eyes met. A warm comfort rippled through his hazels, and she let go of a small smile as she watched him walk out of the room. For the short time she'd known him, Sam Winchester always had a knack for staying optimistic and encouraging. She admired that about him.

* * *

Dean and Cas walked carefully among the growing maze of pillars along the road. The black columns of sand-like particles hissed as they walked passed, remaining mysteriously idle as the two crept by.

"Not gonna lie, I've been waiting for one of these things to jump out at me." Dean said as his eyes constantly studied the space in front of him.

"That would be impossible. They are not alive...I think." Castiel's gruff voice said behind him.

A breeze picked up at that moment, ruffling through the angel's trench coat, blowing the tip of the fabric right into one of the dark masses. Instantly, it held fast to the coat, the hissing growing louder.

"Cas!" Dean shouted as he quickly grabbed the angel's arm and pulled.

Dean could feel the other pillars in their vicinity begin to radiate some kind of heated pulse that beat on his ear drums. Dean grimaced as the pull on Castiel grew stronger. If these things could incinerate a leaf, who knew what they could do to a celestial being. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see the other pillars now moving in, closing around them like a cage.

"Dean!..."

"Agghhh!" Dean grunted as he tugged with both of his arms, digging his heals into the pavement. The other pillars drew closer. He could feel their dark energy thrumming through his body. He had to get Castiel out right away.

"Dean! I...I have to let it go!"

"No! Don't say that! Just hold on to me!" Dean tugged on him again, harder. He made a move for Cas's other arm, getting a lower bearing on the ground.

"It's the only way! I have to let it go!" Castiel shouted above the noise.

"Oh no...you...DON'T!" Dean yelled, pulling once more with all his might, feeling the weight give and make him drop to the ground. The loud hissing instantly ceased, and all was calm again. Castiel lay beside him on the asphalt, breathing heavily as he looked around them. The pillars had backed off. They were safe again.

Cas stood up and gave Dean his hand. As soon as the elder Winchester was on his feet, he examined the remains of the trench coat, now missing a huge chunk of the back, like a great white shark had taken a bite out of it.

"That was very close to killing us both. You should have just let me let go of my coat."

"What?! No," Dean said, still out of breath, "that coat...it's special. You ain't you without your coat."

"Well, I would still be _me_..." Castiel said, watching Dean roll his eyes, "but I understand what you're trying to say. Thank you."

"Right. Well, we should get back. That was enough investigating for today." Dean said wearily as the two walked back carefully to the Impala, Dean trailing behind and letting Cas lead this time.

* * *

It was almost dusk when they returned. Dean and Cas trudged down the staircase into the library, Dean dropping his bag of guns and pulling out a chair at the grand table. Jane walked in from the kitchen. Castiel passed her with a simple hello and nod as he went into the hall to look for Sam. She watched him go, noticing the singed and frayed back of his trench coat.

Dean sighed as he leaned an elbow on the table.

"What happened to you?" Jane asked, hesitating before walking over with her coffee and setting it on the table. He certainly looked like needed it more than she did. He took a sip and looked up at her. His green eyes roamed over her face, but she averted his gaze. She still felt guilty for the way they left things before, and she wasn't sure if he was still upset with her. She had had enough pointless confrontation in three lifetimes from her family. She wanted her relationship with the Winchesters to be different.

"Hey."

Jane finally flicked her hazel eyes to meet his green ones.

"Hey."

"I...I'm sorry."

Jane nodded, "...Nothing happened between us, you know."

"I know. Cas told me." There remained a silence in between them that was thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Jane stood there awkwardly, looking down into Dean's eyes and trying to read them, but failed. He simply gazed back, motionless, his lips pressed together.

"I don't even understand why that made you so angry. You just stormed off."

"I know." This time, Dean looked away.

"I mean, what was I supposed to think? I'm glad Castiel went after you; I was afraid you would go out and do something stupid, maybe get yourself hurt. I promise that I won't try anything reckless, but that research you found on the internet was funny...and I was intrigued." She tilted her head to the side, trying to see if she could catch his attention again, but seeing he wouldn't yield, she continued, "So, call me crazy or silly, or whatever, but I wasn't trying to find an excuse to kiss Castiel or make fun of you. I mean, who the hell do you take me for? This isn't grade school." She sighed, looking toward the hallway.

"Anyway, I owe you and Sam everything. You saved my life and...do you get what I'm saying?" She looked back at him.

Dean sighed and brought a hand down upon his face, following over the bridge of his nose, coming to grip his jawline with his fingertips as he dragged down his cheek bones, the skin of his palm making a small scratching noise as it made contact with his light scruff.

"I do, more than you know, and I just...I wanted to apologize because there's no reason for me to be mad. I was just acting like a dick. I mean, you did nothing wrong...except give me crap for doing a little research. See? This is why Sammy is the one who does most of the..."

Jane suddenly reached out and gently cupped his left cheek, feeling the unshaven roughness under her palm that pricked at her skin. Dean looked back at her now speechlessly, the warmth of her touch radiating through his body and reminding him of Castiel's angelic power, but not as overwhelming. He hadn't expected her to touch him at all, especially after the way they had left things before. But now...he was at a loss for words.

"It's okay." Jane said, her voice trying to hide behind the blush stirred up by her own actions. Her breath caught in her chest as she continued to gaze into those infamous green eyes. There was no way to escape their hold. They bore right into your soul, if you let them, and it was that concept of yielding to him that intimidated her. But of course, she was too stubborn to pull away, and too relieved to simply leave him and his apology at its end.

She unconsciously leaned closer, the color of his eyes shaded by her shadow as she stood over him, allowing her a darker view of the weaved emerald patterns within the iris. The space between them began to close and for a moment, Jane had forgotten what they were talking about.

Footsteps in the hallway pattered back into her consciousness and she quickly pulled away, looking across the room to find Sam striding in, Castiel following behind.

"Hey. Cas filled me in on what you guys saw out there." Sam said, his eyes flashing between Dean and Jane before brushing off any suspicions.

Dean looked at him in a daze for a moment, but his vision cleared as he reached for the coffee Jane had brought him.

"Yep. Shît definitely almost hit the fan." He said mid-sip.

"I heard."

"Wait, what?" Jane asked, looking from Sam to Dean, crossing her arms in realization that Dean hadn't told her a lick of what had happened on his outing.

"Dark pillars of smoke—something evil—are descending onto Earth's surface, beginning in that field."

"Something wicked this way comes..." Jane muttered to herself, unruffled by the news.

"One of those things attacked Cas. It tried to pull him in by the coat, but I got him just in time." Dean said, taking another sip from his mug.

"These things, these pillars, are certainly a product of the Behemoth." Cas said.

Sam nodded, "And after what Cas told me, it sounds like they're here to purge the Earth before the Behemoth takes out the rest of the monsters.

"So these things are attracted to non-magical, unsupernatural, no-occult beings...which makes up...more than half the world..." Jane said in exasperation.

Cas nodded in response. "But, you're an angel. You're from _Heaven_." Jane said, gesturing toward him.

"Maybe they have a dislike for holy douchebags." Dean said with another sip. Castiel turned to him and gave him a classic bîtçh-face.

"His vessel isn't from Heaven." Sam said in realization, "and it grabbed onto your trench coat first."

"This thing is doing a biblical cleanse, material world and all." Jane said.

Dean finished the coffee and set it down with a _clink_ as he stood from the table, catching everyone's attention.

"Well that's just fan-freakin-tastic. We've got another potential apocalypse on our hands."


	25. Chapter 23 - Storm

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 **Thank you to all my readers and fellow SPN Fandom supporters. You guys rock! :)**

* * *

 _"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration."_

 _~ Frank Herbert,_ _Dune_

* * *

Jane looked up at the sky, the growing clouds as dark as soot. There was an electricity in the air, signaling a coming storm, but Jane knew it was no ordinary change in the weather. She sighed, _It never is_.

Jane and Team Free Will had driven out to the field again, stopping on the side opposite the pillars, about 20 miles away. Sam looked across the field at the dark masses, his arms crossed to brace against the strong gusts of wind. Dean opened the trunk of the Impala and took out an EMF.

"What are you planning on doing with that?" Sam asked.

"Just checking something." His brother replied, turning it on and walking farther into the field, holding the detector above his head.

"What is he doing?" Jane asked, watching Dean go.

"Beats me, but I'm guessing we'll find out soon."

"Dean, you shouldn't be going out there!" Cas called, without gaining a response. The angel huffed, muttering, "Why am I not surprised."

Dean walked about 20 paces more, then stopped, his eyes fixed on the gauge. Every time the needle practically slammed to one side of the indicator, it would immediately flip back to zero. Again and again the EMF pulsed above him, and he could feel it. It was like standing in front of a speaker as a musician beat hard on a bass drum. It was like when he stood next to those pillars. The sky was alive.

Thunder crashed in the distance. Jane was starting to get restless.

"Unless he wants to get struck by lightning, he better get his äsś back here."

"He will." Sam said, although he could hear his own doubt in his words. Another crash of thunder and Jane turned to Castiel, who was studying the sky.

"Cas, he needs to get out of there."

Cas sighed and looked across the field at Dean, "Jane, nothing can deter that man from something once he sets his sights on it."

"Even when it's a _suicide_ mission?" Jane argued, annoyed. Cas simply gave her a questioning look and went back to studying the sky.

Jane grumbled and turned away. She would have to take matters into her own hands. As she started out into the field, Sam called out to her, imploring her to stay with him, but she ignored him and kept going.

As she reached Dean, she grabbed his raised arm and lowered it to his side.

"Jane, what are you doing out here?"

Jane scoffed, "I could ask you the same thing."

"It's not safe."

"No šhït. What were you doing?"

Jane looked down at the EMF now pointing toward the ground, spiking more frequently and frantically. The air felt electrified around them.

"I think those pillars are causing this."

"The pillars. Then let's get rid of them. Let's blow them up or something. I saw that grenade launcher in the trunk of the car. Where the heck did you get that thi..."

"It's not that simple. If they can absorb anything they touch, who knows what else they can do. They could absorb the blasts. Might as well slap a 'Made in Hell' sticker on the front."

"Yeah, no kidding." Jane said, staring up at the sky. The EMF suddenly buzzed at Dean's side. Jane's eyes widened as they both looked down. This time the spike stayed at 'dangerously high'.

"Sonofa..." Dean said. A rumble sounded above them, louder and more powerful than before.

The sound caught Sam and Cas by surprise. They looked at each other in panic.

"Dean! Jane! RUN!" Sam yelled. He didn't have to tell them twice.

Lighting struck the dirt close by, then the ground began to shake, and as the two ran and stumbled, the shaking seemed to pursue them. It was right on their heels when they felt a hand on both their shoulders. Suddenly they were in their cars. Cas had grabbed them. He sat in the Cadillac with Jane.

"Thanks...Cas" Jane said through heavy breaths.

"Of course."

She heard the Impala's engine roar to life as she thrust the key of the Cadillac into ignition. They both drove off in a cloud of dust, hearing the rumble over the hum of the cars.

Sam looked back, seeing Jane and Cas right on their tail.

"I hope they know how much I hate tailgaters." Dean said as he hit the accelerator.

"Ha ha." Sam replied sarcastically. He watched the field get pulled up by some invisible force, dirt and green flying everywhere.

Then something strange happened. Just as the tail end of the Cadillac left the perimeter of the field, it ceased completely.

"Dean, wait!" Sam said, staring out at the field in disbelief.

"What?!"

"The field...Stop the car!"

"I hate tailgaters." Dean said as he swerved the Impala around so Jane could pass him.

"Woah! Hold on, Cas!" She shouted to the angel as she swerved too. Cas held onto the side door, looking a little pale.

Jane angrily got out of the car and slammed the door behind her, trudging up the dirt road.

"What the hell was that for?!" Jane yelled as she marched up to Dean getting out of the front seat.

"Well why the hell were you so up in my tailpipe?!"

"I was not...we were just trying to get away from the..."Jane gestured with her arm at the field that was trying to kill them, only to see it had stopped.

"...danger...what the hell?"

"That's why _I told Dean_ to stop." Sam said as he got between the two. The three of them looked down the road before they decided to investigate. Cas got out of the Cadillac just as they started walking.

"Wait," he said, "do you hear that?"

A sound like metal grinding on metal, something high-pitched and other-worldly, crashed in Jane's ears like a ton of bricks. It made her cringe and cover them, but the sound kept getting louder, forcing her down to one knee.

"What is that?" She cried, looking back at Cas who was in the same position.

Dean looked down at her apprehensively, crouching down to see how he can help her. Sam ran over to Cas.

"Make it stop!"

"Jane! I don't hear anything!" Dean told her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"What?!" She made an effort to stand up with his hands under her arms, her eyes fixed on the way they came.

"Jane, you can't go back there."

"I have to see!"

The two trudged back up to the field. Dean couldn't believe his eyes.

Like a crater had crashed to Earth, the field's upturned dirt to the core of the soil flowed out like after a drop of water falls into a pond.

The air was filled with dust and dirt. Jane coughed as she shielded her face and Dean did the same. At the heart of the destruction, Jane saw movement through the haze. She stared at the spot in horror, confused and frightened by how her body refused to move. She felt the pressure build up in her lungs. She wasn't breathing. Dean was the same. The energy of the pillars had amplified. It was like the weight of gravity had grown and was now working against him, trying to push him down and crush him.

Jane took another step forward, and Dean grabbed onto her arm.

"Jane," the pressure on his skull was making him feel dizzy, "we have to go."

"I..." She looked up at Dean regretfully. She knew that if they stayed any longer, who knew what would happen. They needed to be at their best if they were going to investigate this further, but...

"I saw something. Something out in the field."

Dean scanned the area with squinted eyes, the dust irritating his vision.

"I don't see anything, Jane. In fact, I _can't_ see anything. We need to _go_." Dean said, leaving her side.

Jane took one more hopeful glance out across the desolation before turning to follow him. The ringing in her ears was all she could hear. As she walked back to the Cadillac, the pressure of those pillars lessening with each step, she played back the instant in her mind over and over. There was something. She could've sworn she'd seen...

A loud, booming scream shook the sky, pounding the hunters' ear drums. Jane fell to the ground, cutting her hand on a rock. She struggled to stand, looking out in front of her through the thickening dust and debris in the air. Sam, Dean, and Cas were on the ground too.

Jane started crawling forward. Another scream sounded, this one more powerful than the last, and the ringing was gone, replaced by a rhythmic thrumming that seemed to vibrate the sky.

Without warning, tears began to fall from her eyes, unsure if they were the result of the dust or fear.

A third scream sounded, and Jane dropped, covering her ears. The constant thrumming made it harder to alleviate any pressure on her brain. She looked back at the field, through the trees that lined the road, as a humongous, lumbering shadow outlined in the distance seemed to sink into the ground.

Jane froze again as its eyes, piercing and black, cut through the musty gloom and seemed to land on her, feeling them stab into her like daggers. She couldn't look away, and the tears continued to stream down her face. The last time she had felt this way was that night when her mother was...

She knew now what these tears meant, and there was no escaping it.

* * *

As the top of the shadow's head disappeared from view, everything seemed to grow deathly quiet. The thrums in the air stopped, the dust and dirt settled, and the ground slumbered once more. Sam stood wearily, his hands gripping his head to stop it from throbbing. He looked down the path and saw a body.

"Jane!" He called. Dean looked down the road as he helped Cas up. Her back was curved, her head buried in her arms. She looked like a ball with her body all slumped like that.

"Dean, she's not moving." Sam said.

He stumbled quickly down the road, his eyes fixed on her. When he reached her, he looked down in a bit of a daze. She was visibly shaking, her eyes wide with terror. Her hands covered her ears, one of them bleeding down her cheek, gripping the sides of her head and scrunching up her short, auburn hair. Her face was covered in dirt, just as, he figured, the rest of them were, and he could see the tracks of wet tears streaming down her face.

She hadn't yet acknowledged him standing there. Sam knelt down beside her, gently removing her hands from her ears. A small line of red dripped out of one of them, a result of the screams, he figured. She winced when he touched her.

He lifted her up into his strong arms and carried her back to the cars. His heart lurched when he glanced down at her. It was like whatever had happened had aged her ten years, but also somehow reduced her to a small child. She looked stunned. Had she seen something? He placed her in the back of the Impala, taking the keys to the Cadillac from her jacket pocket. He looked at Dean, who was now just staring at her helplessly and angry at his helplessness. Although he never truly admitted it, Sam knew how much Dean had come to care for Jane.

"You take her. I'll take the Cadillac and drive with Cas. I think we all just need to get away from here."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Dean mumbled as he walked past his brother and got into the car.

With the roar of the engine, the Impala drove away in a cloud of dust. Castiel and Sam sat in the Cadillac in silence for a moment, watching the tail lights disappear around the bend.

"I've never seen her like that."

"We don't know her well enough to have had the chance to." Castiel said, contemplating what he _did_ know about her.

Sam looked at Cas with a discouraged face. He wanted to help. He felt the need to help. To understand. But how can you even begin to try and understand the past of a person who uses all their strength to run from it.

* * *

Slowly and carefully, Dean carried Jane's limp body down the metal staircase into the bunker library.

He laid her down on the couch and went to the kitchen to grab a beer and the First Aid Kit. He wet a wash cloth and placed it on her forehead. First and foremost, he had to bandage her hand.

Taking a sip of beer, he inspected his work. A masked blot of red showed through the white bandage, but it wasn't a deep cut.

He reached down and lightly brushed a strand of dark hair from her face. She had passed out in the Impala earlier, and her sleeping face looked soft now under the fluorescent light of the bunker.

Dean sighed. What had she seen? Why hadn't he seen it? She was shaking like a leaf when Sam put her in the car.

He sat at the end of the couch by her feet and took another swig of beer, replaying the last hour over and over in his mind, memories covered in dust and dirt and filled with the screams of something truly unholy. If that was what had triggered something inside of Jane, he feared to think of what might have happened in her past.

Her chest heaved gently as she started to wake up, one of her legs stretching out across Dean's lap.

Dean set down his bottle and slowly sat forward. He touched her shoulder, "Jane?"

She jerked awake under his touch, her eyes fluttering open.

"Jane. It's okay. We're at the Bunker."

Her wide, hazel eyes landed on him, clouded from sleep.

"Dean?" She said as she sat up.

Dean's hand remained on her shoulder, "Are you okay?"

She nodded. Her eyes looked past him and landed on the bottle.

A small smile tugged at the sides of his lips as Dean grabbed the bottle and handed it to her, watching her tilt her head back and take a long sip. She shook her head and pursed her lips together.

"I needed that." She said, sitting up.

He wanted to say, "I know," but instead just polished off the bottle.

"How ya feelin'?"

Jane smoothed her hair, her hands coming to rest on the back of her neck, "Fine."

She looked down at her feet and breathed a sigh. Dean studied her for a moment then said, "Well, you and I both know that's not true."

Jane examined her bandaged hand, gently caressing the material with her finger briefly.

After a small silence, Jane finally met his eyes. He felt an uneasy rise in his chest as he looked into those hazel eyes, big and sorrowful, a beautiful veil to hide whatever they'd seen so long ago. Instinctively, he pulled her into his arms, feeling her hands press to his chest. She smelled like dirt, making him realize he probably did too. She still buried her head into his shoulder.

He could feel her shivering, like she was out in the cold. He pulled her away slightly, just enough so he could look into her eyes again. Tears threatened to fall down her face.

"Jane," He whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "what did you see out there?"

She gulped, sniffling, "I've never been so...so afraid. I could feel its energy, Dean. That thing, that monster is out now. I don't know...no, I can't even fathom what we'll have to risk to take it down. I've never felt so powerless, so scared..."

"We'll figure it out. You, me, Sam, and Cas. We'll stop this thing. I mean, we've dealt with demons, the devil, angels, even the seven deadly sins. We'll gank this sonofabitch before you can say..."

"No, Dean, you don't understand. It _saw_ me. It looked right at me. I...I couldn't move. I've never been so afraid in my life. It took my fear and it _manipulated_ me. I felt like a black hole had been punched into the middle of my chest, and I was being sucked deeper and deeper into just, blinding fear. I couldn't breathe! I can still feel it, that feeling like you're helpless, small. It felt like...it felt like I was reliving that night all over again!" Jane said, covering her face with her hands as the tears started to fall.

Dean pulled her back to his chest, mulling over what she'd said. This thing could manipulate fear, not just cause it. That was a new one. A walking nightmare. It was a huge, monstrous nightmare. Dean's brow furrowed when he remembered another thing she'd said.

"Wait, what do you mean by _that_ _night_..." Dean heard the door at the top of the stairs open, the heavy lock closing with a bang and a meek scrape of metal. Jane pulled away and wiped her eyes at the sound of Sam's voice. She cleared her throat and looked at Dean, mouthing a 'thank you.' He nodded and forced a smile of reassurance, which disappeared once she turned around to greet the others. Whatever "that night" was, he intended to find out.

* * *

"I see you're feeling better. That's a relief." Sam said as he looked down at Jane and smiled. He noticed a fresh redness around her eyes, but decided not to say anything. Castiel simply stared at her. She looked at him in confusion and saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"What is it Castiel?"

"You felt it too."

Jane nodded, "Have you ever felt something that powerful before?"

"Once," Cas said, "When I was in Heaven. Angels don't normally meet the Lord, but a long time ago, his presence was so strong that you could feel his light in the darkest of times, and when he was there, or when he passed through the many ( _many_ ) levels of Heaven and you happened to be there at that exact moment, his essence would hit you like a train colliding with another, filling you with so much warmth and..."

Dean walked over and stood next to Jane, "Well Cas, it sounds like what you're describing there is a perfect example of an or... _gahh._ " Dean buckled over as Jane elbowed him hard in the stomach.

"You were saying." Jane said.

Cas paused for a moment, but then continued, "Of course, that's an entirely different sort of power. This thing, this Behemoth, is pure evil, and it's power ranks on a Biblical proportion. That means we need to strike it down with just as powerful a hit."

"But we don't have that." Jane said.

"We know," Sam chimed in, "which is why Castiel and I were thinking, what if we don't need to kill it. What if we just need to defeat it enough to send it back."

"Send it back? To Purgatory?" Dean said quietly, still feeling winded.

"Yes," said Castiel, "if we can wound the Behemoth and distract it long enough to open one of the portals in Purgatory, then maybe we can lead it through and trap it."

"Well, what's to say it won't just escape again?"

"I'm sure there's some sort of spell or hex or something we can use to keep it there forever, maybe put it to sleep." Sam said.

"But you don't know for sure." Jane said, crossing her arms.

"We just need to do some research." Sam said.

"And we need manpower." Jane added.

"I still have contact with some of my brothers and sisters in Heaven. Maybe the fact that this monster has arrived will sway them to help us." added Cas.

"Alright." Jane said, looking at her new comrades. She'd be lying if she said she didn't have any faith in them.

She looked down at her bandage and smiled. She looked up, "Well...who's hungry?"

* * *

 **Stay tuned! A plan, a man, and a scary monster are all coming up in the next chapter!**

 **\- Stay Classy ;)**


	26. Chapter 24 - Strategy

**Hello SPN Fam!**

 **I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it! If you are, then please don't hesitate to drop a follow on this story! I love Supernatural and am so inspired by the characters. If you have any suggestions, comments, or ever want to talk about** **the show, please leave a comment and a like on this chapter!**

 **Thank you!**

* * *

 _"The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink."  
~ T.S. Eliot_

* * *

Gravel crunched under dark, leather boots.

The night had grown cold, and the headlights only managed to pierce the fog mere inches in front of the classic green Roles Royce. The driver bent down and grabbed a handful of broken asphalt, stained a deep, dirty red from the blood of a fallen Baltan brother. He kneaded the sullied rocks in his palm, looking out into the gloom swirling around the beams of light.

The sounds of another engine and a quick snippet of a wail from a police car's siren sounded behind him. Footsteps approached.

"Hey, Sir, you can't just stop in the middle of here. It's the main road. Are you having some car trouble?" A young Chancellorville police officer said, shining his flashlight at the mysterious man. He turned his attention to the priceless car.

"Quite a beauty you're driving. Lemme call a tow truck and maybe we can fix her up...Sir?"

The man stood up slowly, still facing out into the haze of the fog. The officer walked closer, seeing the man's hand move around something he was carrying.

"Sir..." The officer approached cautiously, "D-Did you lose something?"

The man peered over his shoulder at the officer, his eye glowing red. The officer backed off in fright. The man finally turned around, and the officer realized that the person before him couldn't be more than 18 or 19 years old.

"Did I...lose something? Did I lose something, you ask?" He said slowly, taking a step forward, his chin and malicious grin now visible in the car's lights.

The officer cried out in fear, almost tripping over himself as he turned and ran back to his squad car. Just as his hand reached the door, another clamped down on his wrist. The man, with the same smug devilish smirk on his face, squeezed the officer's wrist as it began to crack under the strength. The officer began to scream "please stop, please stop," and the man paused.

"For one to lose something, that thing must be of _personal_ value. It must hold a special place in his heart, don't you agree?"

His mind clouded with fear and pain, the officer nodded frantically, helplessly trying to yank his wrist from the man's grasp.

"I have not lost anything. No," The man drew his face closer so the officer could stare right into his blood red eyes, "I am _hunting_ something."

A large blade plunged into the officer's ribs and he fell to the ground, his blood pooling around him.

"Why does _your_ blood have to be the only one's to paint this road, Brother?" The man stared off into the fog one more time, throwing the bloodied asphalt at the squad car windshield and leaving several breaks.

"I'm on my way, Jane. Hope you're ready for another little family reunion." He muttered to himself as he drove off and disappeared into the night.

"Can I get a round?" Jane said, trying to flag down a waitress.

"I thought you were hungry?" Sam said, chuckling as he raised his arm to help her out. In five seconds flat, four beers were on the table along with a menu. Jane watched the blushing waitress retreat to the kitchen window, chewing vigorously on her gum. Jane rested her elbows on the table with a sigh, slightly irritated.

"Well, maybe it's just because they're so busy." Jane said, looking around at the other two tables of people at such a late hour.

"Or maybe you're just not her type." Dean snarked, his foot teasingly kicking hers. She shot him a sharp glare and grumbled as she picked up the menu.

"Do you think that thing is walking around out there?" Dean said, looking at Sam.

"I doubt it," Jane said, looking up from the dessert section, "I saw it sink into the ground. It just disappeared when we left."

"So that whole scream and dirt flying everywhere bit was like its _warning_ to us." Sam speculated, taking a swig of beer.

"Sounds like my ex." Dean said, taking a sip and grabbing the menu out of Jane's hands.

Jane nudged Sam, "What ex?" she whispered.

He looked at her and smiled, trying not to laugh at her sincerity, "He's joking."

"Ah." She replied, starting to laugh along with him.

Cas stared at the two across the table, eyeing the untouched beer intended for him. He didn't like alcohol that much, although truthfully, he saw no point since one bottle would have absolutely no effect on him, but he took it anyway. It would be a waste let one of the others have it.

Once they received their food, they got down to business.

"So, to defeat this thing, we need something so strong it puts God to shame?" Dean clarified between bites of hamburger.

"Or thereabouts." Jane said, looking at Cas.

"If what I read is true, this thing has only one weakness, and it's a small one...or I guess it would be a _big_ one if you can imagine the actual size of this thing..." Sam said.

"Oh, I can imagine." Jane mumbled, taking a sip of beer. Dean eyed her for a moment, but said nothing.

"The size of this thing is what we have to use against it. Like Goliath. I swear, from what I saw, it really is huge."

"It is humungous," Castiel said, "and it was feared by every other beast on Earth."

"Well, that's because it can control fear." Jane said, "We need to find a way to protect ourselves from its manipulations. If we go in cold-turkey, we all freeze up and then it's 'Game Over: Thanks for Playing!'"

There was a brief silence, broken by the waitress, "How is everything?" She said with a bright smile on her face.

"It's good. Thank you."

"Where y'all coming from?"

"We're local. Just stopping by." Sam said.

The waitress beamed a little too obviously before she said, "Well, let me know if you need anything!" and then walked off.

"Wow...the service here is great." Jane said, rolling her eyes.

"Why is it women always have to hold some sort of resentment for each other?" Dean teased, lightly kicking Jane under the table again.

Jane gave him a more powerful bitch face, "It's not that we hold resentment for each other on principle. Women can just see past the masks of others more easily."

"No way that's true. Sammy is the most sensitive person I know." Dean chuckled, taking sip of beer. This time it was Sam's turn to kick under the table, making Dean choke in surprise.

Jane laughed, and the sound made Castiel smile as he took his first sip.

Back at the bunker, the gang sat down and began to do some more research on the Behemoth. Castiel's connections in Heaven hadn't pulled through like he'd hoped, so now they were back to square one.

"They know something has come, but they refuse to say otherwise."

"Stuck-up winged Bastards." Jane blurted out monotonously, her nose stuck in a Men of Letters journal.

"Dammit, why does it feel like we keep hitting dead-ends?" Dean said, practically slamming his laptop closed.

"Because we do." said Jane, still deep in concentration.

"Our solution is we need something strong enough to phase it. If we can knock it off its feet, we can buy enough time to send it back to Purgatory." said Sam, looking up from his own screen.

Jane's eyes coasted over each word, pages and pages of Men of Letters research on the most obscure and obscene things, from _torture_ to _Vampires_ to a "how-to" on _The Torture of Vampires_. Line after line was an exhaustion of symbols and synonyms for the same thing: _Death to all Monsters_.

Unfortunately, that excluded one, dreadful monster in particular.

She tossed the book in the growing pile of dead-ends, picking up yet another with a sigh. This one was dustier, and the pages were more brown and weathered from age. There was no name in it, simply the Men of Letters symbol messily stamped inside the front cover in deep, red ink. Flipping through the pages, hideous drawings of black figures with piercing eyes and name after name in different languages: _daemonium_ ; _Idemoni; setan_ ; _daimonio..._

They all meant the same thing.

Demon.

She kept flipping through the pages, intrigued and mesmerized by the jagged lines and manic splatters of black ink that took the form of the monsters from Hell. In her life, she had never met a demon quite like, well, any of these. She kept turning page after page until her eyes met with two, giant ones engraved into the page, the symbols on the page written in what looked like Arabic.

"Cas?" Jane looked across the room at the angel, waving him over.

"What is it, Jane?"

"Can you read this?" Cas looked down at the page and his eyes grew wide. He stared at the illustration for a moment, looking like he was sinking into the floor.

"Where did you find this book?" Castiel asked instead, his voice very grave.

"It's one of the Men of Letters journals I found here in the library."

Dean looked up from the computer he had reluctantly opened back up again, "Find something?"

"What's wrong Cas?" Jane asked, looking up at the angel and trying to hide her anticipation for his answer.

"Those words there, written in Arabic..." Castiel pointed to the symbols, "They translate to _shakhs dakhm jiddaan._ It most literally means 'beast.' But another translation could be..."

"Behemoth." Jane said breathlessly as she stared into the cold inky blackness of the eyes on the page.


	27. Chapter 25 - Collide

**Hello SPN Fam!**

 **I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it! If you are, then please don't hesitate to drop a follow on this story! I love Supernatural and am so inspired by the characters. If you have any suggestions, comments, or ever want to talk about** **the show, please leave a comment and a like on this chapter!**

 **Thank you!**

* * *

 _"Possible impossibility emerges_  
 _From an impossible possibility,_  
 _Or possibly, impossible possibility_  
 _Blooms from the impossibly possible impossibility."_  
 _~ Dejan Stojanovic_

* * *

"Castiel, I need you to translate this for me. All of it."

Cas's eyes scanned the page thrice before looking back at her.

"It can't help us Jane. I don't trust this research."

Jane looked into the angel's blue eyes sharply. She set the book down without breaking contact with them, and stood up so that she was closer. He knew what she was doing. She was trying to assess what he meant, making sure she chose her next words with precision. He knew she knew that if he doubted the content of the journal, it would take convincing to get him to crack...

Or not.

Still, without breaking her gaze, in one swift move, she picked up the journal and tossed it in Sam's direction.

"Can you translate it Sam?"

"Uh...which page?"

"I think it was page...27. Right, Cas?" Jane asked, her eyes filled with challenge.

Cas let out a hard sigh, his frustration obvious.

"You can't find help in that journal."

"Judging by your reaction, I'd say otherwise. Why keep it from us? Why keep something, that could destroy this monster, to yourself?"

"I'm putting your lives first."

"Our lives will have no meaning if we let this _thing_ destroy the world."

"We can find another way..."

" _Really_?! Can we, Cas? Because it sure looks like we've run out of options!" Jane said, her anger building.

"The Men of Letters knew nothing about monsters until they defeated them. The Behemoth was never defeated. That journal is mere speculation, and that will only get you all killed."

Jane's eyes started to turn gold as she grabbed onto the angel's trench coat, pulling him closer, "There are families out there with loving homes. There are people who live near that field. Hell, I bet the owners of that land have already made a decent snack for that beast." her voice was dangerously calm, "so you can't expect me to not exhaust every option until we defeat it. This is a monster you would see in the movies, Cas. It brings destruction and evil. That's its purpose, no matter what the Bible or any stupid website might say. I don't know about the three of you, but it is my job to suss out evil. I was created to rid the world of supernatural interferences and make sure Fate stays on course. If you are afraid, then fine. Be afraid. I'm afraid too, but that won't stop me. Not even my family can..."

Jane let go of Cas as her eyes returned to hazel. She turned to Sam expectantly, hoping he had been working on the book. She was completely aware of the threat now, could feel time wasting away as they spoke. Every minute they spent trying to figure out how to stop the Behemoth, the stronger it would get, at least that's how she presumed her nightmare would unfold. Hope lost. She refused to accept that.

Sam stared back for a moment, looking across the room to Dean who stared back, unsure of how to proceed. Still processing what had just happened, he raised the journal in the air, "I think I translated the first paragraph."

"See that symbol there? It means 'light'...I think." Sam said, pointing out the word to Jane.

"Light...like the light of God?" Jane said, hunching over the journal with Dean as Sam glanced back at his computer for the next translation.

His face scrunched up as he scanned the page with his finger and looked back at the screen.

"The next word I can make out is ' _collide_.' Does that mean anything to any of you?" Sam said, sitting back in his chair. He waited for an answer but it never came. Jane rested her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently, searching her memory for anything having to do with the word.

"Well, collide basically means crash, right? We just need to crash into this thing and shove it back through a portal to Purgatory."

"And how are we going to open a portal big enough?"

"I might be able to provide the answer." came a deep, raspy voice from across the room. All four of them turned to the kitchen to see Crowley walk out with a glass of what looked like scotch.

"Stop drinking our booze." Dean said, annoyed.

"Consider it a downpayment for what I'm about to offer."

"We don't want your help, demon." Jane said, stepping forward.

Crowley chuckled, "You don't even know what I have to give you! And I promise," He shifted his body so that he could meet everyone's eyes before saying, "It'll be worth your while."

"Why do you want to help us...and how did you get in here?..."

"That's not important. What IS important is that we kill this thing before it destroys Heaven, Hell, and everything in between." He gestured to the bunker around them.

"What do you...suggest?" Castiel asked carefully, trying to fight back curiosity for the sake of caution.

"You'd be surprised at what Hell has in its toy bin. I have a weapon you can use to knock it down." Crowley snapped his fingers and in the middle of the library appeared a great harpoon gun, about the length of a small table.

"What the..." Jane gawked, "You expect us to use this?"

"I expect you to win with this."

Sam stood up and walked over to the machine, brushing his fingertips over the front beam that supported the arrow. It looked like a giant-sized crossbow, with a large, steel-woven cable connected to it and tied down at the back. The bow fanned out from the front tip, dark wood reinforced with steel bolts and rivets. Two more cables pulled back those wings and flanked the first large one.

The harpoon itself was a dark metal of some kind, not the same as the gun. The arrowhead caught the glint of the overhead lights. Dean walked up next to his brother and touched the arrow.

"Where did you get this thing?" He asked, looking at Crowley with suspicion.

"Again, doesn't matter."

"We're not using something you've stolen." Jane said, admiring the craftsmanship. There was no way something as beautiful and powerful as this was forged in Hell. There was something else about it too. An energy around it that radiated a mark of its capability.

"This was made in Heaven." Castiel said, his fingertips resting on the trigger for a moment as he looked at Crowley, who only smirked at the angel.

"I thought you'd never notice."

"How do you fire it?" Sam asked, walking to the back of the machine.

"That's a very good question, Moose." Sam's lips pressed into a hard line at the nickname.

"You don't even know. Great." Jane said sarcastically, running her hands through her hair in frustration.

"I have never fired it before...but..."

"Well that's just perfect, ain't i..." Dean said.

"Shut up for a moment, would you." Crowley said, stepping forward and gesturing toward the machine.

" _I_ have never operated this lovely piece of weaponry because I _cannot_ operate it. Only those who made it can. Only an angel."

Crowley gestured over to Castiel and all eyes were on him, all asking the same question, _"Can you?"_

"I never had a need to use something like this."

"That's because this was meant for a different type of angel. But one angel or another, you've all got one, specific quality that makes you qualified to use this beauty."

"And what would that be, exactly?" Dean asked.

Crowley turned to him, "Why, his grace, of course."

"No. No way!" Dean said.

"Well you asked me how it works." Crowley mocked.

"Well that's out of the question." Dean said, crossing his arms and looking at Cas to see what he thought about all this.

"We don't even know what that will do to him. Grace is precious, you can't just..." Jane said.

"I want to try firing it." Cas said all of a sudden.

The three hunters all turned to him, surprised.

"That thing could kill you Cas. It could suck up all your grace." Sam protested. The other two nodded with him and Crowley rolled his eyes.

"So that means you only get one try. IF you don't trust your grace, that is." Crowley said again, tempting Cas to try. You could hear his tone trying to pressure the angel into it, and it made Jane sick.

"Shut up, Crowley." She turned to Sam and Dean, grabbing Cas by the arm and leading them all passed the demon and into the kitchen.

"I suppose, fancy another drink fellas?" Crowley said, starting to follow them.

Jane shoved Cas toward the kitchen and turned to Crowley with warning eyes, "You stay here. We need a moment."

Crowley stopped and watched her follow the others into the kitchen, then turned away and started tapping his foot, yelling back over his shoulder, "I don't have all day. The King of Hell has things to do too."

Jane rolled her eyes as she entered the kitchen. Sam sat at the table and Dean leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Cas just stood near the fridge. They formed a perfect diamond of adjudication.

"You're not seriously considering this, are you Cas?" Jane said, her hands on her hips.

"When the Earth was still dark, and war was raging between the two planes, a very long time ago, I remember hearing word of those weapons being used to reel in monsters and hold them fast so that angels could smite them. I never manned them, but I did see something like it happen once. It was terrifying and powerful and it worked, just as the angels predicted."

"Exactly how much grace does it need, huh? Do you even know?" Dean said, frustrated.

Cas let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes, staying silent, already knowing that anything he'd say would be for nought when it came to Dean acting like this.

"Cas," Dean said, making the angel meet his eyes, "I get it, okay. We get it," he gestured to Sam and Jane, "but we're not just going to let you martyr yourself. That's not how wars are won. That's how pointless situations are ended. If this thing needs grace to the point that you collapse and can't even use the thing, then what's the point?!" Dean said, gesturing to the room, to their situation.

Jane stepped forward and put a hand on Dean's outstretched arm, "Even if your grace is enough to power this thing, you would have one shot, Cas. One." Cas looked down at her. Jane's face was grave, and yet he could see in her eyes that she hadn't given up on the idea.

"Will Cas even get a chance to practice with this thing?" Sam interjected.

"In theory, no. That is, if what you suspect about this machine is true." Crowley said, walking into the kitchen and interrupting their little meeting. Jane shot a glare at him.

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Sam said.

It was a couple hours later. Crowley had left and Sam had drawn a rough sketch of the field and had written what they knew so far on the sides of it. He laid the large paper across the great table in the bunker. Dean sat in one of the regal chairs positioned their and leaned over the makeshift map.

"We know it lies somewhere in the middle. And this thing is huge..." Jane said from the other side of the table, her hands pressed on the surface as she studied the quickly bulleted notes in Sam's chicken-scratch.

"The field doesn't have a lot of coverage. Where are we going to put this catapult-thing without it spotting us and sniffing out our plan before we even have a chance?" Dean said.

"Maybe we don't have to hide it. If we can distract it long enough then we can just drop it down on the road." Sam suggested.

Something like this could only be planned so far, and that's what made Jane feel uneasy (or at least one of the reasons). Plus, they were running out of time. Who knew what the monster had done as they planned to take it down. It was a bit ironic, that the time they took to make a plan to destroy this monster just gave it more time to wreak some destruction of its own.

Jane scoffed, "So, how are we gonna distract it? Wave our hands in the air and shout insults? Light a flair and run around like a chicken with its head cut off in a scene of Jurassic Park?"

Sam pursed his lips in thought, "Essentially."

"Great."

They decided to raid the armory hidden deep within the bunker. Neither Sam nor Dean had really dug around in there. Tons of artifacts, spears, spell books, and everything in between lined the walls, overflowed off the rickety book shelves, cluttered the floor.

Sam sorted through the Men of Letters' sparse collection of grimoires, dust gently puffing up in the air in clouds as he closed them in haste. Every few minutes, Cas was heard mumbling to himself about things he would find that belonged to angels or had Enochian writing on it.

Dean and Jane perused the weapons stash. Jane had found a gold-plated sickle with some sort of hieroglyphs etched into the metal of the blade. She examined it, pleased with the weight and balance, then tucked it under her arm as she continued searching. Dean found a collection of old spears, one of them with a tag tied to it. In sloppy script, it read, "Muisca."

He turned around to ask Sam what that meant, but Sam popped up from behind a shelf of books, looking triumphant. He raised one of the grimoires above his head.

"I think I found something!" He said. They all hustled out of the room and made their way to the library. In a flutter of crisp pages (magic contained in a grimoire would scare away even natural decay), Sam found the right one, his finger tapping the spot excitedly. Jane's eyes widened as a surprised smile creeped onto her face.

"This...this is it!"

Dean read it over her shoulder and looked at Cas standing next to him. He smirked like he hadn't doubted they'd find something for a second.

"Nice work, Sammy!"

They all looked at each other in realization, and without another word, Sam grabbed the grimoire and raced up the stairs, Dean and Jane following close behind. Cas walked over to the catapult and touched it, disappearing with it.

The impala's engine roared, the Cadillac's in tandem, and they drove off into the late afternoon light. It would be a beautiful evening.

The perfect evening for a take-down.

* * *

 **Please don't forget to vote for this chapter! Thank you so much :)**

 **Also, please feel free to leave comments.**

 **What will happen on the battlefield? Stay tuned for the next chapter to find out!**

 **P.S. For those wondering, "Muisca" refers to the Chief of the Muisca people of Columbia. He was known as "El Rey Dorado," or "The Golden King," and is believed to have been at the heart of the myths of El Dorado, the city of gold. Just thought I'd throw in a little something something. Dean is always finding the most random things or having to do the strangest things, like how he killed a certain resurrected dictator in an episode this past season...**


	28. Chapter 26 - The Golden Hour

**I haven't had a lot of time to write for this story lately, much to my chagrin, but I'm trying to ease back into it. And now with me being sick, I have plenty of time on my hands.**

 **As a little bit of a recap, the Jane and Team Free Will are taking the weapon to the clearing, ready to carry out their plan and hopefully take down the Behemoth. Their plan seems fool-proof...but then again, what plan of theres ever truly works out flawlessly? If you can name one from the show down in the comments and prove me wrong, I'll give you a shoutout ;)**

 **Enjoy Chapter 26!**

* * *

 _"The golden hours on angel wings / Flew o'er me and my dearie, / For dear to me as light and life / Was my sweet Highland Mary."_

 _~ Robert Burns_

* * *

The sun shone bright and orange through the windshield of the Cadillac. A low, warm beam of gold. Jane quickly pulled down the front visor to shade her eyes. She made sure to keep up with the Impala revving in front of her.

About a mile from where the trees began to thin, Dean pulled the Impala to the side of the road. He and Sam quickly jumped out. Jane pulled up right behind them, confused as she saw them jog to the trunk, opening and closing it in a minute flat. As they turned and faced the road behind them, Jane understood. They were carrying 3 orange cones each, and with them, made a line across the road. Jane watched them, impressed. Now they wouldn't be disturbed.

Five minutes later, they were back on the road. They drove right up to the clearing's edge. Cas appeared in front of them with the Enochian weapon as they turned off their engines.

"Good, you made it." Dean said to Cas, although he never doubted he wouldn't. If Cas failed to appear at any time, that was when he started to worry.

"I can still feel the energy coming off of those pillars." Cas said.

"Me too." said Jane as she walked to join them.

"We need to see if the Behemoth is still there." Sam said. He started walking through the woods on the outskirts of the field, moving silently from tree to tree.

 _For someone as tall as him, he sure is graceful_ , Jane thought.

"We need to set this up." Dean said, inspecting the harpoon.

"Maybe we can lead it onto the road. That way Cas has a straight shot. He can just line it up with the road itself."

Cas proceeded to push it carefully to the center of the asphalt, pebbles crumbling and the road rumbling under the weight of the object.

"That'll have to do, and we need to do this now. We can't afford a shot in the dark."

Jane looked up at the sky. Golden yellows ombre-ed to the cerulean blue above her, and it was getting darker by the minute. Jane looked at Dean and nodded, turning and running into the woods to go and find Sam.

* * *

The trees' canopy rustled above Jane as she ran farther into the forest, making sure to stay quiet. It was hard with all the crunching leaves of mid-fall. She could feel the temperature sinking lower with the sun, even the slightest of changes made her shiver. Or maybe, it was something else entirely. Perhaps it was the mere thought of those black eyes staring into her fears, like they could reach out and touch her, pull out her heart. Perhaps that's what made her shake; what sent chills down her spine.

"Sam..." Jane whispered.

There was a line of birch trees lining one side of the clearing. Jane carefully walked up behind one of them, her eyes inspecting the devastation. It was even worse than she thought. Steam rose from the soil, the ground looked like charcoal, and waves of overturned dirt outlined the nest where _it_ had been.

"Jane?" She heard Sam behind her.

"It's not here." Jane whispered, her eyes scanning the ground over and over to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

"I know. That's what worries me." Sam said.

Jane leaned back against the tree and stared up at Sam, trying to think of an answer.

"Where could it have gone?" Sam asked, "The Behemoth is huge. It couldn't have gotten far without us knowing."

Jane nodded, turning back toward the field. It was darker now. A lot darker. Jane looked down the line of trees. She could see a ray of waining sunshine farther down. She ran to it, and the difference was astonishing. It was like she had run around a building.

 _Sh_ _ït,_ she thought.

She ran back to Sam, tripping into his arms. Sam caught her without any trouble. She looked up at him with a quick and embarrassed "thank you", before telling him what she'd seen.

"It's still here, Sam." She said.

"It's still here?"

"Yeah...somehow. It's definitely there. We just can't see it."

* * *

"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Cas." Dean said. His eyes rested on the pillars, floating dormant above the ground. That same, succinct hum vibrated off of them.

"Me too." Cas said with a huff.

"When do you think they'll be back?" Dean said, still staring across the field as the sun fell more quickly than he'd expected.

"Soon. Jane is with Sam, they'll be fine." Cas said, assuming that's what Dean meant.

"I'm not worried about Jane. She can take care of herself."

"Oh, trust me, I'm aware." Cas said. He examined the weapon, his fingers grazing over the triggers. His vessel tingled at the fingertips, the bodily urge to pull it back, like when a human stands on the edge of a cliff and that impossible thought of flight crosses his mind. He pulled his hand away.

Dean tapped his foot, looking off into the tree-line, "We need to do this _now_."

"They'll be back soon." Cas said, walking toward the field.

"Where are you going?" Dean said.

"Something doesn't feel right."

"Well yeah, it's those damn pillars..."

"No, not that." Cas said.

"Dean!" Sam said, running out of the woods. Jane trailed close behind.

"See anything?" Dean asked.

"It's invisible!" Jane said.

Dean looked at them in confusion, "This isn't the time for jokes right now..."

"No, Dean, Jane's right." Sam said.

"The Behemoth...it's like a huge, invisible mountain." Jane said.

"It must be dormant again." Cas said, walking back toward them.

"Well, let's wake this sonofabitch up then." Dean said, starting to stride to the field, hand reaching for his gun.

"Wait, Dean..." Sam said, grabbing his brother's arm, "You really think waking an invisible monster is the best idea? Waking _you_ up is nightmarish enough."

Dean stared at his brother for a moment, then rolled his eyes, "Fine."

"So how do you propose we do this, then?" Jane said.

"We can open the portal to Purgatory and reel it in without it suspecting a thing." Dean said.

"It's gonna be pissed." Jane said.

"Let's do it." Cas said, he looked over at Sam.

"I'll work on the spell." Sam said.

* * *

It was completely dark by the time Sam had completed the concoction. Dean and Jane stood around him, pointing their flashlights down as they watched him read and pour in each ingredient into a small bowl.

"This seems pretty complicated." Jane said.

"It is." Sam said, "There's a chance it won't work."

"Then we'll find another way." Dean said.

Cas was waiting by the weapon, his fingers tracing over some enochian scroll he'd noticed, carved into the left side of the bow. It read _Nanba,_ the enochian word for "thorns." A chill ran through him to the center of his grace. He turned his attention to Dean and Jane. They were standing so close to each other.

"Alright," Sam said, striking a match, "here goes nothing."

"Let's hope that's not the case." Jane mumbled to herself.

Sam spoke the incantation and dropped the match into the bowl, a giant spark leaping up toward his face and illuminating his features. Once the light died, they were in darkness again.

"Damn." Dean said, a hand coming up to meet his mouth; he tried to think what they could do next.

Jane felt her lungs hitch in her chest. Should she say something? She had an idea on how to help, but it was a long shot. "I...I have an idea." She said, kneeling across from Sam. She picked up the bowl, cradling it in her hands as she closed her eyes and concentrated. Everything was silent, apart from the pillars, whose whirs echoed through the night air and drowned out any other wildlife.

A light ran through the veins of her hands as Jane squeezed her eyes tightly. The bowl shook as the light crackled over onto its surface.

"Do it again." Jane said to Sam, she sounded like she was holding her breath.

Dean watched her in disbelief. Sam didn't move, completely mystified by her actions.

"Sam!" Dean snapped, gesturing to their box of matches. Sam shook himself back to reality and picked up a match.

"Hurry." Jane said.

The match struck the ingredients, and a light cracked the surface of their dimension -it split right between them. Jane dropped the bowl and stumbled back into Dean, who quickly helped her up. Sam stood and hurried around to stand next to them. The portal was also dark, and ominous sounds emanated from within.

"It's not big enough." Jane said in disappointment.

"We'll make it fit." Dean said.

Cas and the weapon appeared behind them, "I have to go through if this is going to work."

"I'll go with you..."

"No." Dean said, "I'll go." Jane narrowed her eyes at him.

"What the hell? Why can't I?" Jane protested.

"Because I said so."

"Dean..." Sam warned.

"You're human, Dean. Stay here where you're safer."

"I don't need to..."

Sam cleared his throat, "Dean." He said, giving his brother a look. Dean sighed.

"Jane stay out here. I've handled Purgatory, you haven't."

Jane's eyes widened, but she didn't respond. She looked down at her feet, then walked toward her car. "I'll be right back." She said.

Cas had already disappeared to the in-between.

Dean took out his gun, "See you on the other side, Sammy."

"Dean," Sam said, "Be careful."

Dean nodded as he stepped through, "When am I not?"

* * *

Jane came back with two shotguns and a tranquilizer rifle.

"'Tranqs'? You think those'll work?"

"It's just one big, magical animal right?" Jane said, loading it, "This thing always makes me feel like I'm in Jurassic Park." she said, smirking.

"How can you be smiling at a time like this?" Sam asked. Then he turned to the portal and called out to Dean and Cas.

"Ready!?"

"Ready!" Dean responded, standing back-to-back with Cas as he scanned their surroundings. Every rustle, every creak and break in the underbrush caught his attention. "Ready Cas?"

"Yes." the angel replied, taking hold of the harpoon. He angled it, keeping his grip steady. With a deep breath, he mustered his grace, surging it through his vessel. His eyes glowed pure white. The script on the bow lit up, and Dean could feel the energy vibrating off of it, just like the pillars.

Dean turned and quickly examined the angel's aim, "Shoot right above those floating bastards."

"Right." Cas said. He altered the angle of the arrow, the ancient wood and metal creaking through the movement. His eyes locked on to the empty space of the field, aiming for the middle. His grace surged to his fingertips, and Cas pulled the triggers on both handles, letting out his breath with all his energy.

The pullback was powerful. A ring of grace burned into the ground , the rest crackling around the cable of the arrow as it soared through the portal and into the night air.

Sam and Jane, startled by the object, ducked out of the way, falling to the ground and watching in anticipation. Jane couldn't breathe, couldn't blink. Her eyes just followed the arc of light as it soared higher and higher, out toward the field.

Dean couldn't look away either. He watched it nervously as the cable stretched farther and farther out through the portal. They were about a mile out from the portal itself, needing space to reel in such a humungous beast.

A growl from above tore Dean's focus away. The treetops were shaking, and a monster leapt down from the knotted branches.

"Sonofa..." Dean shouted, jumping out of the way as the monster landed where he once stood.

The thing hissed, lunging at him with a grotesque shiv. Dean pulled an angel blade from his jacket and dodged the attack, swiping out without making contact. With the other hand, he shot, aiming for the creature's chest.

Another emerged from behind, and Dean ducked, shooting up at the creature's chin. Cas remained glued to the machine, his hands fused to the trigger as the arrow continued to sail toward its target.

Jane turned her head toward the portal. She could feel Dean's heart rate increasing.

"Sam, Dean's in trouble." She said. Sam cocked his gun.

"I'll go. You stay here." He said.

"But..." Jane started to protest, but Sam had already disappeared.

"Dammit." Jane said. She turned back to the field. The pillars' whirring grew louder, hurting her head, and she covered her ears. She watched in shock as they suddenly rose into the air, flying up to meet the grace-laden harpoon and boxing around it, completely stopping it in its path. In a panic, Jane cocked her gun and walked swiftly toward the pillars. Maybe if she distracted them, they would let the arrow go. The grace sputtered with the halt of momentum. The hum grew louder, and the pillars glowed brighter, sucking up the energy from the weapon.

"Cas!" Jane gasped.

She stood at the edge, where the field met the side of the road, dropped the tranq gun for her hand gun, and aimed high. All of a sudden, the ground rumbled underneath her, and a dark mass materialized, towering over her. Jane's breathing quickened as she started pulling the trigger, rapidly firing at the pillars to no avail. The Behemoth stared down at her, the rest of the pillars lifting into the air and spinning around it. A red glow from within them created a bright ring, blinding her and causing her to step back.

Jane felt helplessly afraid. She shielded her eyes as the light grew brighter, the energy ringing in her ears again and bringing her to her knees. She watched in horror as the monster began to shrink, its figure transforming. In the middle of the field, among the hellish red light, stood a man, and although he stood so far away, she could still feel his black eyes transfixed on her.

* * *

Sam rushed through the portal into Purgatory. The air smelled like death, making his eyes sting. This was what his brother had to go through, he thought. He followed the line from the weapon as fast as he could, jumping over roots and ducking through the foliage. He could hear Dean's grunts as he fought off four monsters, doing his best to keep them all away from Castiel.

"Dean! Duck!" Sam said, bursting past Cas and shooting one of the monsters in the chest.

"Where's Jane?" Dean asked, slicing through one of the monster's throats.

"She's still out there." Sam said, shooting the last round of the shotgun and dropping it. He pulled the demon knife from his jacket.

"By herself?" Dean said.

"She'll be fine. You really should start trusting her more." Sam said.

"You really want to discuss this now?" Dean shouted, swiping at another monster.

"Just saying, she _did_ save our lives. She's more powerful than the both of us combined. Maybe even Cas! She can handle things herself..."

Dean grumbled, kicking dirt in a monster's face and stabbing it in the ribs. It fell to the ground, "Sure about that? Remember the last time that... that 'thing' woke up?" He said, shooting at a monster going for Cas. Sam didn't answer.

Dean swiped at the last monster with his knife, causing it to step back before he shot it between the eyes, "We've gotta finish this quick. It's already been too much time."

The Winchesters approached the angel. "Cas! Did you hit it or not, buddy?" Dean asked, his eyes resting on the angel's hands.

"There's...something wrong." Cas struggled to say.

"Did the arrow hit?" Dean asked anxiously.

"No. Something...stopped it."

"Have you tried reeling it back in?" Sam asked.

"I...I can't."

"Sam." Dean said, turning back to the woods around them. More Purgatory prisoners emerged from the darkness.

"Cr4p." Sam said, readying his knife again.

* * *

 **Will Jane and the Winchesters get out of this in one piece? Stay tuned for the next chapter!**

 **Don't forget to follow this story if you wish to receive updates on new chapters! :)**


	29. Chapter 27 - Mercy

_"The family - that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor, in our inmost hearts, ever quite wish to."_

 _~ Dodie Smith_

* * *

Jacob Davidson had not expected anything out of the ordinary to happen that day. The day his father came for him, after all those years. While remaining condemned to a boarding school in Paris, he had tried to make the most of it. Why was he there? Why did his father suddenly have a change of heart and send him off in the first place? All he knew was that Jane had something to do with it. Had she told Father about those many times sneaking off the property, through those "forbidden tunnels" built back in the late 40s as bomb shelters and escape routes...even mausoleums? Josh had told him that little fact as a bed time story once, just as he'd told him Jane had spilled all of their truths to Father to gain his approval.

His father had walked through those iron and wood double doors of the french Cathedral - all heads turned in the pews to look at him - and up to the first row where Jacob sat, stunned and in a brief state of confusion. He had forgotten, if only for a moment, what Tobias Jacobson had looked like. Of course, he was a lot older than when he had delivered Jacob to such an establishment. It had been two days after his tenth birthday. Now Jacob was eighteen, and could only associate his father's surprise appearance with the bringing of bad tidings.

Tobias had gestured with his head toward the door, and then turned and walked off, just as silently as he'd come. Jacob's eyes widened in fear, glancing back to the head master at the lectern. If not to add to his fear, the head master shied away from Jacob's eyes, looking down at his feet with a despairing look.

"Jacob," Tobias's voice echoed off the stain glass windows, as stern as he had remembered.

Jacob's hand instinctively raised to grasp the cross hanging from his neck, a gift from his middle-grade mentors. He knew that when he walked out of that church, when his shoes no longer clapped against the polished floor, when his hands no longer brushed over the tops of the pews and his heart no longer leapt at the sight of the marble Christ nailed to a redwood cross, that life would become a lot harder. He would certainly change.

Jacob couldn't question it though. He had no choice, in his opinion. The Davidsons were built on order. It was etched into their blood by God himself. When the angels needed them, they were there to take orders. When the world needed them, they were there to assert order. Simple as that. His father was especially particular about order, and even more so after the fall of the matriarch, his mother.

There was another thing that chilled him and fired him up simultaneously. It was the thought of seeing his siblings again. Joshua, his older brother, who always had something to say, who always said the bullying was his way of toughening up the young ones. It was his "duty" as the oldest, he would say. Even more so did he dread the thought of seeing Jane. She was the whole reason he was sent away in the first place. And even after the whole ordeal, she had never called, never answered one letter. She had cut him out of her capacity to love, and for what? Tobias's favor.

It was a betrayal. Something he had never expected from Jane. Maybe Josh...but not Jane. Josh had also brainstormed why Tobias had separated them. In one letter (Josh still wrote, with permission from Father), he suggested that Jane was afraid of losing the claim to the late Matriarchy, wanting nothing more than to take over. Sending Jacob away and keeping Tobias keeping Josh in check was her way of taking control. She probably feared rebellion and claims to the top spot, Josh would say.

On and on these poisonous thoughts filled the pages of Josh's letters. Jacob could tell his brother's growing hatred could only rage more and more. For a long time, he contemplated whether he should follow; whether he should give in to such anger. He'd soon be distracted by school, by the ministers who taught with the hand-rapping method, rulers at the ready if one disobeyed. It was an abusive system, but not as terrible as what he had experienced after his mother's death. Tobias was a whole another nightmare.

And on that day, when his Father finally did appear, he had no choice but to leave his semi-haven for the hell on Earth established by Heaven itself.

"Father, why have you come for me?" Jacob asked quietly, sitting in the back of a limousine. He sat across from Tobias with his hands in his lap, studying the new wrinkles and lines taking shape on his father's face. They were subtle, but they were there.

"Your presence is needed at home. I missed you, my son."

Jacob's heart skipped a beat, his eyes filling with hope.

"You missed me?" He asked, sitting forward in his seat.

"Yes. You have been greatly missed. The Baltan need their brother."

Jacob's budding smile wilted, "Oh."

"You are of age now. You are to continue your studies at home as well as be trained in the ways of combat, just as your brother and sister."

"Josh and...and Jane."

Tobias's eyebrow raised, "Yes."

Jacob turned his head, his jaw outlined in the dim light, "I see."

"In truth," Tobias continued, grabbing Jacob's attention, "you are the best candidate for succession."

Jacob stared at his father, all of his senses alert with suspicion, "Succession?"

"Yes, the succession to the leader of the Baltan's North American branch. All the leaders from the seven continents gather every century. We need a strong leader to represent our family."

"But Mother was the last leader," Jacob protested. The idea of such a position intimidated him. "A woman has always been the head of this branch."

"Your mother is no longer here though, is she?" Tobias said coldly.

Jacob gulped, "But...what about Jane? She's older than me. Or even Josh?!"

"Your brother is not...intellectually oriented the way we are...and Jane..." Tobias paused, as if contemplating what to say next, "she is no longer devoted to this family."

"No longer devoted? But..."

 _But the whole reason I was sent halfway across the world to be disciplined was because she wanted to show her_ devotion _,_ he wanted to say.

"Jane has strayed from the path," Tobias turned his attention to the outside, "no matter how hard she tries to deceive me," He muttered harshly under his breath.

"The point is," he said, "your siblings are no longer your concern, my son. You are to learn our ways, and when the time comes, you will have the chance to prove yourself. You are Baltan, you are a divine warrior, and even more importantly," Tobias turned back to Jacob, "you are my son." He smiled, a rare sight, and an even rarer blessing for one of his children to experience in its most genuine form.

Jacob stared back at his father in consternation, not sure how to feel. He was more important to his father, no, the entire North American clan, than his siblings...than Jane ever was. She had him sent away because she felt _threatened_ , he concluded. She was afraid she would become, and remain, insignificant. She hated the thought of serving under her younger brother. Well, he'd show her. He'd show all of them just how powerful he could be.

* * *

A forest green Rolls Royce revved under the gas pedal as it sailed down an empty country road. The light was fading, and the Golden Hour had burrowed deep into the gold and blue sky. A tip had come in from the main house about an unnatural disruption, and Jacob Davidson just happened to be the closest to the site.

His main mission, that which his brother had failed to complete, would have to wait. He found himself reluctantly following his orders, but he'd learned early on that his Father's objective was the Baltan's objective, thus making it his as well. His knife, made specially for him, was long and sleek, with a blade as black as obsidian. On the hilt was the Davidson family crest. All Baltan weapons in the North boasted such a design. The blade lay stoic in the front seat, a stained cloth resting underneath. He had to clean the blood off to preserve the car's leather seats.

That was one thing he and Jane had in common. They loved their cars. The difference was that hers belonged to their mother, while the Rolls was a gift from their uncle Dalton. Dalton was Tobias's older brother, and had laid claim to the top spot in the clan dozens of times before finally giving up. Tobias had stood by Mother's side until the very end. Until it was necessary to...step back.

Jacob shook his head at the thought, knocking it around in his brain until it dissipated. He went back to fixating on his original goal. He was so eager to return to his hunt after this other job was completed. He wanted nothing more than to grab the traitor by the hair and drag her home, where Father and the council would then have their way with her.

She deserved retribution, he thought. He had always thought that. Deep down. She refused to see him - that's what Josh told him - and with every swing and punch and merciless lesson his father and brother drilled into him, he caught himself cursing her name.

The night was growing darker. The dark silhouettes of the trees bent and swayed in the autumn wind, their branches like long fingers reaching down to stroke the car's smooth surface. Contemporary piano played _legato_ through the speakers as he drove on.

Something up ahead reflected in his headlights, and he stopped. In front of him were a line of cones placed across the road.

"Construction?" Jacob scoffed, not sure whether to believe it or not. There were no other signs, no other cars, nothing was out there beside him. He scoffed, staring down the orange cones as he hit the gas. Ramming through the line, he drove off down the road. There was a strange vibration in the air, waving through the night uncomfortably. Suddenly, what sounded like a clap of thunder and a surge of energy shot towards him and through the car, and Jacob swerved to the side.

Breathing quickly, his hands clutched to the wheel, he glared down the dark road in anger.

"What the hell?!" He said, grabbing his blade and practically kicking his side door open. As soon as his lacquered loafers hit the asphalt, a high pitched ring shot to his ears. He doubled over onto the ground with a grunt. Crawling back into the car, he searched the inner consul then rummaged through the glove box. There it was. A small box holding a pair of neon yellow earplugs. Normally, he wore them when he slept, but the situation called for extreme measures, he thought.

Squeezing them into his ears, he stepped cautiously out of the car again. The ringing hit him like a brick to the chest, but he remained on his feet. A red glow lit up the sky nearby, like a devilish aurora, and the wind now whipped through the trees. He had to get closer.

Jacob trudged down the road to the clearing until he saw the silhouette of a person bathed in red in the distance, gun raised to the sky. He ducked behind a tree and watched. In the middle of the red light was giant...something. And then it was gone. What stars it once blocked were now visible. It wasn't balance. It was magic, the worst kind. The kind that interfered and the kind that took away.

The person far down the road stood frozen in place, staring out into the field where the monster once stood. Jacob narrowed his eyes. It looked female...no, it was definitely female. What was she doing? He felt drawn to her, an urge to help, so without thinking he started walking.

The heels of his dress shoes clicked dully on the road as he walked toward her. He saw her stiffen and then turn her head toward him. With each step he got closer, she hesitated and stumbled back little by little. Then she raised her gun, and he stopped.

"I see you've caught up to me," she murmured. Jacob's eyes widened, suddenly full of his residual hatred. He reached into his coat pocket and the gun on him drew a step closer.

"Put your hands behind your head. Now," she said slowly. Jacob complied with a chuckle.

"You are so _afraid,_ " he said, his chuckle growing into an excited giddiness.

"Not of you," she replied, glancing at the field for a moment before focusing back on him.

"Jane, please, don't be like this. How about a hug? We haven't seen each other in years."

"I thought you were dead, until Josh..."

"Wouldn't you have liked that," he hissed.

"I won't let you take me back."

"See, this is what happens when you reject family, Jane. There are consequences," Jacob said, reaching again into his jacket pocket. Jane's finger tensed on the trigger until she saw the hilt of his blade. Then she fired into him thrice without a blink. Jacob pulled out the knife and looked at her in annoyance.

"This was a nice suit," he said, his irises instantly seeping with blood red energy. He lunged at her, knife aimed for her chest. She shot at him again and ducked out of the way. The bullet hit his calf, making him falter on his landing. He grinned in hellish pleasure, and he chuckled again.

"You know, I always thought this reunion would be a bit more dissatisfying," he said, spitting some blood onto the road. Jane pulled her Baltan blade from her jacket. "So thank you for putting up such a fight!" Jacob's blade swiped at her throat, mere centimeters away.

"Brother...!" Jane shouted.

"You lost the right to call me that a long time ago!" He screamed as he attacked her again.

Jane dodged his attack just barely, and the blade clipped her arm. Blood ran down her bicep and stained her clothes. In the heat of the pain, Jane's eyes, on the brink of tears, became two holy pools of gold. She leapt toward him, her blade clashing with his as she whipped around and caught him in a choke hold. He stepped back onto her foot and slammed the back of his head into her nose. She stepped back, but recovered quickly, screaming as she slammed her fist into the asphalt. It rippled out, like a drop of water hitting a puddle, or a boulder hitting a lake. Jacob stumbled around as he advanced, trying his best to remain balanced. With one swift move, Jane was flying towards him again, and their weapons clang as they met each other.

* * *

Jane's burst of energy had rippled through the portal into Purgatory, where Sam and Dean had begun a battle against the emerging monsters, fighting to protect Cas and the portal itself. The ground shook like an earthquake, making them all fall to the ground and just a bit angrier.

"What the hell was that?" Dean said as he scrambled to his feet, readying himself for the next enemy.

"I don't know," Sam said, standing resolute at his brother's side. "We need to get out of here. The weapon isn't working!"

"It'll work," Dean said, panting, "it will. We just need to give Cas more time."

"Dean, those pillars aren't going to budge! We need to get out of here and seal the portal."

Dean grunted his frustration into a battle cry as he shot out into the growing crowd of monsters, dropping six. He turned back toward the angel, "Cas, let it go! We're getting out of here!"

Cas didn't budge, molded to the weapon and writhing in pain now as his grace was sucked out of him.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, looking to Sam.

Sam nodded, throwing Dean his gun and running to the angel. He grabbed Castiel and yanked down on his arms, trying with all his might to separate him and the _Nanba._

"Sam! Come on!" Dean shouted over his shoulder. They were the blood in a sea of gathering sharks.

"He won't...let go...!" Sam gave one final pull, using all his weight. The light had grown dim on the chord and arrow, and finally Cas's hands released from the trigger, making the light disappear.

Cas lay still on the ground, his eyes digressing to their former state again.

"Come on. Come on, Cas, we gotta go!" Sam said, hoisting the angel up and slinging his arm around his broad shoulders.

"Sam, I'm...too weak to carry the weapon."

Sam grimaced, but shook his head as he trudged back to the portal's entrance.

"Dean! I got Cas, let's go!"

Dean nodded, firing a few more shots before running back into their world and kicking over the ingredients in the Baltan-charged bowl. He shouted the incantation to cancel out the spell and the hole closed up before the first monster reached it.

Dean took short breaths, wiping his face with his sleeve, "Well that was fun."

"Dean, I think Cas is out of grace," Sam said.

"Those pillars juice you dry, Cas?" Dean said, kneeling down beside the angel.

"Yes...I suppose all of my grace has been juiced out of me," he said, squinting his eyes in the red glow of the pillars circling overhead. Dean looked out across the field, his eyes landing on the figure of a man in the center, seeming to be staring at him. Then everything came flooding back and the crack of metal on metal grasped Team Free Will's attention.

"Sonofabitch," Dean said, standing up with gun raised. "Hey!" he shouted at Jane's opponent.

Jane turned around to see Dean, her eyes glowing brightly at him. He stared into them for a moment, then focused on the new enemy.

"Dean, step back," Jane warned.

"Who the hell are you?!" He shouted, ignoring her.

"Really, Jane? Have you been sluttin' around with humans all this time?"

"Hey! Answer my question Abercrombie," he said, stepping forward.

"Happy to," Jacob said, holding out a hand and letting the red disappear from his eyes, red Dean couldn't see anyway. "The name is Jacob. Jacob Davidson. I'm Jane's baby brother."

Dean scoffed, "Really..."

"Dean, back off," Jane said, gripping her blade, her blood channeling in a drip from her arm to the tip of it.

"You should listen to her, Dean," Jacob said.

Dean held his gun out for a while longer, studying Jane's brother with narrowed eyes. They flicked over to Jane's, which darted back and forth between the two men. Dean reluctantly lowered his gun and took a step back with a grimace.

"Good choice," Jacob said, earning a hateful glare from the older Winchester.

"Just leave, Jacob. Please, it doesn't have to be this way."

"Oh, but it does," Jacob said, readying his knife once more. He stepped toward her, his eyes starting to quell his power like two volcanoes...

 _BANG._

A shot rang out into the night. Blood started to drip down the back of Jacob's head as he stood in shock for a moment before falling to the ground. Jane looked at her fallen brother, stunned. She turned around and saw Dean with his gun raised. He nodded at her and she turned back to Jacob. He wouldn't be passed out for long, but by then, they would be gone. Far away.

Dean looked out to the field again, but the man had vanished, and the pillars, their red glow sputtering in the moonlight, dissipated into the night air. And then all was calm.

* * *

 **What will happen next for Jane and the Winchesters? Will Jacob track them down again? Where did the Behemoth go? Stay tuned for the next chapter!**

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	30. Chapter 28 - Indignation

**Hey everyone! I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who are reading and supporting this story. I've been working on it for a long time and it has remained near and dear to my heart. Your support is extra encouragement for me to continue on, and I'm glad there are websites like this one where we can all connect through our love of these characters and this show, _Supernatural_. So thank you and please enjoy this latest chapter!**

* * *

 _"Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies." ~ Nelson Mandela_

* * *

Every few seconds, Jane found herself darting a glance to her rearview mirror, but the road remained dark, void of any cars that could be following them. Her phone rang as she sped down the road, following the Winchesters almost at tailgating proximity. After Dean shot Jacob, Sam had helped Cas into the back of the Cadillac, lying him down and rushing to the Impala. As the brothers sped off into the waning darkness of early morning, Jane sat in the driver's seat looking through the back window, at her brother's body lying limp on the asphalt, for what felt painfully longer than a moment. It couldn't have been, because after Castiel's faint breathing from the backseat pulled her back to reality, it took mere seconds for her to catch up to the Winchesters.

Jane's burner phone vibrated incessantly in the cupholder. Without taking her eyes off the road, she groped for it until she was able to flip it open.

"What the hell happened back there Jane?" Dean yelled into the phone, sounding far away.

"Dean..." Sam scolded, holding the phone up to his ear. "Jane, what happened? Who was that guy?"

The Cadillac hit a pot hole in the road and Cas responded with a faint groan. Jane sighed, "This can't wait until later?"

She heard an inaudible protest from Dean before Sam snapped at him to focus on driving again.

Jane sighed, "That was my brother. Younger brother. Josh warned me someone was coming but, I never imagined..."

"Jesus, how many brothers do you have?" she heard Dean say.

"More than you, evidently," Jane said, annoyed. Sam repeated her words to Dean, followed by a huff that could've only been the older Winchester's.

"Well, actually," Sam began to say.

"Jane, J...ugh Sam, give me the phone!" She heard Dean say before his voice became a clear assault in her ear.

"Jane, we were already in the middle of fighting a million things at once. None of us were there to back you up. Do you have a death wish?"

"Dean!" Sam yelled at his brother in the background. All of a sudden, the Impala swerved left then right, giving Jane barely enough time to process before she saw the man in the road.

"What the fuck?!" Jane swerved the Cadillac, but at the speed she was going, the back could barely keep up with the front. "Shit! Hold on Cas," Jane exclaimed as her foot stomped hard on the brake.

The Cadillac skidded in a circle, stopping abruptly and dangerously near Baby's back left bumper. Jane gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, her mind struggling to catch up with her car.

Her eyes widened, "Cas!" Jane said, twisting to look at the back seat where the angel lay. His eyelids drooped lazily over his eyes as he struggled to open them.

"Cas! Are you okay?"

He groaned again, "What...what's happening?"

"There's someone in the," Jane said as she opened the car door and quickly jumped out, "road?"

Dean and Sam were out of the Impala and by her side in an instant, all staring down the empty road they'd been traveling for miles.

"Where'd he go?" Sam asked in a low voice. Dean stepped forward for a moment before walking back to the car and retrieving the EMF detector. With antenna drawn, the needle rested calmly at about 10 before spiking out of control, the whirring on the machine filling the quiet air.

"Why is it wigging out like that?" Jane asked, stepping closer to Dean to inspect the screen.

"I don't know," he replied, looking around above him and seeing no power lines or anything electrical along the road, "but I don't like it."

Dean squinted through the darkness again, but could see nothing. No movement, no sound, no sign of life.

"Dean," Sam said, looking to his brother, "the air. It smells stale."

"Like death," Jane whispered.

"We should get out of here, get Cas back to the bunker," Sam said, turning and heading for the car. Dean stood there for a minute longer, listening to the slight rustling of the trees above them, still feeling the magnetic energy from the vanished pillars. He stared down the road, his eyes still adjusting as the machine in his hands continued to whir uncontrollably. He had a feeling that, any moment now, he might just make out someone staring back at him...

"Dean," Jane tugged lightly on his jacket, grabbing his attention. He looked at her in the moonlight for a moment, not noticing that the EMF had finally gone silent. She glanced down at it, but said nothing. Even in the dark, she could still make out some of his features. He looked so concentrated, it was new to her.

"We need to go," she said finally, giving a slight nod towards Cas in the back of the Cadillac.

"Right," he said, still watching her as she walked backwards slowly.

"Now," she said, smiling for a moment before turning around. "Race you there!" she called to the two of them before jumping into the car and firing up the engine. That took Dean out of his trance.

"Oh no you don't!" he shouted as he ran back to car and started her up. Baby's engine roared as they sped off into the dark. They would be home in no time.

Jane glanced into her rearview mirror, Baby's headlights reflecting back, and she smiled. She heard Cas sigh in the backseat, and she glanced down at him briefly.

"You holdin' up, Castiel?" she asked as she started pushing past 60 mph.

"I'm fine. I'll be fully healed soon enough."

"Sooner than later would be good," Jane said.

Cas chuckled, "We can't always get what we want."

Jane felt nostalgic now, as one does in the wee hours of the morning, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

* * *

"Can you get out on your own?" Jane asked, staring at the angel through the back door, leaning against it and looking hopeful.

"I...I think so," Castiel said, pushing up so that he rested on his elbows. He groaned, then looked at her, seeing the concern on her face.

"I'm fine," he assured her, pushing up a little farther. Slowly but surely, he was able to sit up. Ducking through the back door and out into the bunker garage, Jane offered him an arm that he took gratefully.

The Winchesters stepped out of the Impala, the car doors closing and echoing into the space. Jane looked over at the brothers with Cas's arm slung over her shoulder. His trench coat hung limply on his body, a bit scraped up and splattered in a rainbow of blood from the monsters in Purgatory trying to get a swing at him before they were decapitated with extreme prejudice.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked, walking over to take Cas's free arm and sling it over his shoulder.

"Yeah, just a little drained."

Sam walked ahead of them to hold the door open.

"I'm sorry it didn't work. That thing was more powerful than I anticipated."

"Don't apologize, Castiel," Jane said as they started down the stairs, "None of us knew what we were getting into."

"Speak for yourself," Dean grumbled as they approached the couch. With a grunt, Castiel was lowered down on cushions.

Jane looked up at Dean in protest, but Dean stopped her before she could say anything.

"Save it for later, Jane."

"Why are you suddenly so pissed at me? Mad because I beat you here?" she teased.

"Cas, do you want anything? Like alcohol?" Dean asked, ignoring her.

Cas nodded in consideration, "Alcohol. That sounds like that would be enjoyable."

"Alright, alcohol it is," Dean said, clapping his hands. He walked off quickly to the kitchen. Jane started to follow him, but Cas grabbed her wrist.

"Jane," he said, staring up at her. Jane looked down at the angel. His grip was already stronger than before.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"You can't talk to him when he's like this. He won't listen to you," Cas said, making an effort to sit up a bit more. "He's one of the most stubborn humans I've ever met."

"Is that so?" Jane said slowly, focusing again towards the kitchen. Cas suppressed a chuckle. She sounded completely unsurprised.

* * *

Jacob Davidson woke up to see himself aligned with the road. In that brief haze between awake and conscious, he thought he was looking straight down the line separating Heaven and Hell. But in place of red flames, he found a blood-stained pavement. Then it all came back to him in a rush, pushing him off the ground and onto his feet. Breathing heavily, he looked around frantically before he stepped back and really took in the giant puddle that had seeped into the asphalt around him.

Everything still felt spotty, and his head ached like nothing he'd felt before. A buzzing, like bugs in his ears, ceaselessly tormented his eardrums. In hopeless pain, he gripped his hair and doubled over to vomit. As his fingers tightened around his scalp, his fingers grazed the bullet wound put there by Dean Winchester. New blood started to seep from the hole in his upper forehead as he stumbled to his car. He stared into his sideview mirror as he leaned up against the Rolls Royce.

"I need to get it out. Need to...get it out," he panted, now even more aware of the pain than before. He breathed heavily, counting the breaths as he built up his adrenaline. His eyes pooled red, his fear sinking into the depths of his irises and away from his thoughts. One more huff of breath, and he was digging the bullet out.

"A-agh," he groaned, his index finger grazing the tip of the bullet. He plunged farther into his head. "Agh!" he yelled, more blood dripping down his forehead and water-falling around his nose. He clenched his jaw. He was almost there.

"Come. ON!" he screamed as he made one last attempt, gripping the bullet between his thumb and forefinger with all his determination, finally wrenching it from his cranium.

He stared down at the bullet with wide eyes, his jaw clenched as tears streamed down his cheeks and pooled at his chin, mixing with the red streaks already there. He could feel the pain residing, the tissue and muscles in his brain closing the gaping hole in his skull.

He looked down at at the bullet, studying it now. There was a marking on its side, something he had read in a book once, or perhaps it had been shown to him by Father. The symbol of some sort of society. Something about letters or notes...

Still weak, his eyes returning to their natural hazel, he stumbled to the trunk of the car to grab a rag. When he found his sister, he didn't want blood to obstruct his view of her terrified eyes when he dispatched her new companions with extreme prejudice, especially Dean Winchester. He didn't want the sickening red to cover his look of hate and triumph when he finally killed her. Then Father would be pleased. Then he could take his place as leader. He tucked the bullet into his pocket as he started the car and drove off into the early morning.

* * *

 **Who will win the race back to the bunker? Will Jacob catch up to Team Free Will? It's no longer just a mission for him any longer. Shite just got super personal. Will Jane be able to make up with Dean? Stay tuned!**

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